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Iftto  roto  f  0plsr  Sprits  for  §op  anir 


THE  AIMWELL  STORIES; 

A    SERIES   OP  VOLUMES,  ILLUSTRATIVE   OF   YOUTHFUL  CHARACTER, 
AND   COMBINING  INSTRUCTION  WITH  AMUSEMENT. 

BY  WALTER   AIMWELL, 

Author  of  "  The  Boy's  Own  Guide,"  "  Boy's  Book  of  Morals  and  Manners,"  &c. 
WITH    NUMEROUS    ILLUSTRATIONS. 


The  volumes  contain  about  300  pages,  IGmo,  each,  bound  in  cloth,  with  gilt  backs. 
Price  03  cents. 

Ktj—Each  volume  is  complete  and  independent  of  itself,  but  the  scries  will  be  con- 
nected together  by  a  partial  identity  of  characters,  localities.  Sec. 

The  first  five  volumes  of  this  series  are  now  ready.    They  are  entitled: 

OSCAR;  or,  the  Boy  who  had  Ids  own  Way.  WHISTLER;  or,  the  Manly  Boy. 
CLLVTOA' ;  or,  Boy-Life  in  the  Country.        MARCUS ;  or,  the  Boy-Tamer,  i  NOW  Ready.) 
ELLA ;  or,  Turning  over  a  New  Leaf         !  JESSIE ;  or,  Trying  to  be  Somebody,  i  Shortly) 

NOTICES    OP    THE    PRESS. 

In  the  department  of  juvenile  literature,  the  '  Aimwell  Stories'  have  fairly  come 
tii  rival  the  '  Rolla  Books '  in  the  affections  of  the  young  people.  The  author  when 
he  conceived  the  plan  of  the  series,  struck  a  vein  which  he  has  since  been  work- 
ing with  rich  and  constantly  increasing  success.—  [Boston  Transcript. 

One  of  the  best  series  for  the  young  ever  written.  Every  family  of  children 
ought  to  have  them.  —  [Chicago  Congregational  Herald. 

They  arc  written  with  great  skill  for  the  tastes  and  necessities  of  children,  and 
they  are  written  conscientiously,  with  a  moral  and  Christian  effort  unobtrusively 
operative  upon  every  page.  —  [Congrcgationalist. 

A  better  series  of  books  for  children  were  never  written.  The  author  has  studied 
deeply  and  accurately  the  feelings,  hopes,  and  thoughts  of  youth.  —  [Boston  Mail. 

The  author  of  the  '  Aimwell  Stories '  has  a  happy  knack  at  combining  amuse- 
ment and  instruction.  Under  the  guise  of  a  story,  he  not  only  teaches  a  moral  les- 
son, which  is  or  ought  to  be  a  leading  object  of  every  tale  for  children,  but  he  gives 
his  readers  instruction  in  philosophy,  geography,  and  various  other  sciences.  .  So 
happily  are  these  introduced,  however,  that  the  youthful  reader  must  learn  in  spite 
of  himself.—  [Boston  Journal. 

It  is  the  best  series  of  juvenile  books  with  which  we  are  acquainted.— [North- 
ampton Gazette. 

We  have  spoken  repeatedly,  and  with  unqualified  commendation,  of  this  series  of 
juvenile  volumes.  It  would  be  difficult  to  exaggerate  their  merits  as  a  Bource  of 
amusement  and  instruction  to  children.  —  [American  Patriot. 

(it  a) 


NATIONAL  SERIES  OF  AMERICAN  HISTORIES. 

By  Rev.  Joseph  Huiivard. 


PLYMOUTH  AND   THE   PILGRIMS ,   or,  Incidents  of 

Adventures  in  the   History  of  the  First  Settlers.      With   Illustrations. 

ICmo,  cloth,  60  cts. 
When  once  taken  up  it  will  not  be  laid  down  without  regret  until  finished.  —  Courier. 

An  exceedingly  interesting  volume.  —  Am.  Traveller. 

Popular  reading,  particularly  adapted  to  entertain  and  instruct  youth.  —  Mercant il» 
Journal. 

Every  New  Englander,  wherever  he  resides,  should  own  this  book.  —  Scientific  Am. 

An  extremely  interesting  volume,  written  in  a  plain  but  vigorous  style,  adapted  to 
the  young,  but  will  be  read  with  interest  by  the  older  ones.  —  Uh.  Freeman. 

Highly  attractive  in  style  and  instructive  in  matter.  —  JT.  Y.  Com.  Adv. 

NOVELTIES   OF  THE   NEW  WORLD  ;  an  Account  of 

the  Adventures  and  Discoveries  of  the  First  Explorers  of  North  America. 

With  numerous  Illustrations.     IGino,  cloth,  CO  cts. 

A  series  of  books  which  will  serve  as  valuable  introductions  and  enticements  to 
more  extended  historical  reading. —  Am.  Traveller. 

It  has  all  the  interest  of  a  romance.  —  Portland  Transcript. 

We  have  seen  the  boys  bend  over  these  pages,  unwilling  to  leave  them,  either  for 
play  or  sleep;  and  when  finished,  inquiring  anxiously  when  the  next  would  come. — 
Watchman  and  Reflector. 

Neither  too  childish  for  adults,  nor  yet  too  difficult  of  comprehension  for  children. 
They  will  delight  as  well  as  instruct.  —  Mercantile  Journal. 

Interesting  scenes  and  events  in  the  New  World  are  here  brought  together  and  in- 
vested with  a  charm  that  is  irresistible  by  old  as  well  as  young.  —  Ch.  Intelligencer. 

ROMANCE   OF  AMERICAN  HISTORY;  or,  an  Account 
of  the  Settlement  of  North  Carolina  and  Virginia,  embracing  the  tragic 
Incidents  connected  with  the  Spanish  Settlements,  French  Colonies,  Eng- 
lish Plantation  at  Jamestown,  Captivity  of  Captain  Smith,  the  Adven- 
tures of  Pocahontas,  etc.    With  Illustrations.    60  cents. 
All  the  interest  of  romance,  and  the  addition  of  veritable  history.  —  Puritan  Rec. 
It  is  a  most  pleasing  and  instructive  book.  —  Home  Journal. 
Interesting  as  a  novel,  and  a  thousand  times  more  profitable  reading.  —  Lit.  Me». 

Every  library  should  be  furnished  with  this  Series  of  American  Histories.  —  N.  B. 
farmer. 

Admirably  fitted  for  family  reading,  and  calculated  to  interest  the  young.  —  Trav. 

At'ractive  series  of  books  founded  on  the  early  history  of  our  country ;  it  will  make 
»  most  valuable  addition  to  all  family  libraries.  —  Arthur's  Gazette. 

No  more  interesting  and  instructive  reading  can  be  put  into  the  hands  of  youth.  — 
Portland  Transcript. 

The  series  will  embrace  the  most  interesting  and  important  events  which  have  oc- 
curred in  the  United  States  since  the  settlement  of  the  country.  Each  volume  to  ba 
complete  in  itself  i  and  yet,  when  all  are  published,  they  will  together  form  a  regular 
SIKHS  nr  AMFitir«v  Hrs-romics  - 


CHRISTMAS    TRKE. 

(Si-c  p. -JUS.) 


MARCUS; 


O  K, 


T  HE    B  O  Y-TAME  R. 


B  T 
WALTER   AIMWELL, 

AUTHOR  OP  "  WHISTLER,"  "  ELLA,"  "  CLINTON,''  "  OSCAR,"  ETC. 


WITH     ILLUSTRATIONS. 


BOSTON: 
QOULD     AND     LINCOLN, 

59    WASHINGTON    STREET. 

NEW    YORK:  SHELDON,   BLAKEJIAN  &  CO. 
CINCINNATI  :   GEORGE   S.  BLANCHARD. 

1858. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1857   by 

GOULD    AND    LINCOLN, 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts 


H.IOTROTTPHD  BT 

W.  F.  DRAPER,  ANDOVER,  MASS. 

PRINTTD   BT 

GEO.  C.  RAND  &  AVERY    BOSTON 


PREFACE. 


A  LEADING  aim  of  this  little  volume  is  to 
point  out  to  elder  brothers  and  sisters  some  of 
the  ways  in  which  they  may  exert  a  happy  influ- 
ence upon  the  younger  members  of  the  family. 
It  also  attempts,  incidentally,  to  set  forth  the 
idea,  that  the  best  system  of  government  for  a 
child  is  that  which  trains  him  to  govern  him- 
self. But  while  the  author  hopes  his  pages 
will  not  be  wholly  unsuggestive  to  such  parents 
and  "  children  of  a  larger  growth"  as  may  honor 
them  with  a  perusal,  he  trusts  there  will  remain 
enough  both  of  story  and  moral  for  his  younger 
readers,  for  whom,  after  all,  MARCUS  and  the 
other  volumes  of  this  series  are  especially  in- 
tended. 

1* 


ADVERTISEMENT. 


"PRECEPTS  MAT  LEAD,  BUT  EXAMPLES  DRAW." 


"  THE  AIMWELL  STORIES  "  are  designed  to  portray  some  of 
the  leading  phases  of  juvenile  character,  and  to  point  out  their 
tendencies  to  future  good  and  evil.  This  they  undertake  to  do 
by  describing  the  quiet,  natural  scenes  and  incidents  of  every- 
day life,  in  city  and  country,  at  home  and  abroad,  at  school  and 
upon  the  play-ground,  rather  than  by  resorting  to  romantic 
adventures  and  startling  effects.  While  their  main  object  is  to 
persuade  the  young  to  try  well  the  foundations  of  their  charac- 
ters, to  win  them  to  the  ways  of  virtue,  and  to  incite  them  to 
good  deeds  and  noble  aims,  the  attempt  is  also  made  to  mingle 
amusing,  curious,  and  useful  information  with  the  moral  lessons 
conveyed.  It  is  hoped  that  the  volumes  will  thus  be  made 
attractive  and  agreeable,  as  well  as  instructive,  to  the  youthful 
reader. 

Each  volume  of  the  "  Aimwcll  Stories"  will  be  complete  and 
independent  of  itself,  although  a  connecting  thread  will  run 
through  the  whole  series.  The  order  of  the  volumes,  so  far  as 
completed,  is  as  follows :  — 

I.  OSCAR  ;  OR,  THE  BOY  WHO  HAD  HIS  OWN  WAT. 
II.   CLIXTOX  ;   OR,  BOY-LIFE  ix  THE  COUXTRY. 

III.  ELLA  ;   OR,  TURXIXG  OVER  A  NEW  LEAF. 

IV.  WHISTLKR  ;   OR,  THE  MAXLY  BOY. 
V.  MARCUS  ;   OR,  THE  BOY-TAMER. 

VI.  JESSIE;  OR,  TRYIXG  TO  BE  SOMEBODY.    (In preparation.) 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER    I. 

THE     PAGES. 

MMk 

The  stage  coming  —  A  sharp  pair  of  eyes  —  Hover's  greeting — The 
two  passengers  —  Warm  greetings  —  Oscar  —  Ronald's  opinion 
of  him  —  His  judgment  corrected  —  The  farm  —  Capt.  Page's 
last  voyage  —  How  the  farm  was  managed — The  boarders  — 
Ronald  —  His  early  orphanage — A  temporary  home  —  Marcus's 
proposal  —  Its  success  — The  little  savage  tamed  —  Oscar's  bear- 
ing—  His  good  purposes  —  Difficulties  —  The  secret  —  A  lesson 
to  learn  —  Oscar's  career, 19 


CHAPTER    II. 

THE     NEW     COMER. 

The  lion  of  the  day  —  Oscar's  plans— A  few  days'  leisure  — The 
flock  of  sheep  —  Other  attractions  —  Willing  idleness  —  The 
agreement  in  relation  to  Oscar  —  An  inducement  to  industry  — 
Oscar's  work  laid  out  —  Fair  play  enjoined  —  Lord  of  the  wood- 
shed —  Volunteers  —  Keeping  the  pile  good  —  Cutting  hay  and 
roots  —  Feeding  the  stock  —  Special  pets  —  Taking  care  of  the 
horses  —  Milking  the  cows  —  Sundry  jobs  —  Studies  —  Tlay-time 
—Daily  lessons, 32 


VIII  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER    III. 

A     BOY'S     INFLUENCE. 

PAGE. 

Kate  and  the  boys  —  Indian  ink  prickings  —  Ear  boring — Smart- 
ings —  Exhibiting  the  marks  —  Doing  as  other  boys  do  —  The 
beauty  of  Indian  ink  art  —  A  relic  of  heathen  ism  —  "VVhy  the 
ancients  marked  themselves  —  No  moral  guilt  incurred  by  the 
boys  —  Soap  and  water  of  no  avail  —  What  Oscar  said  —  A  doubt- 
ful star  —  Unsuspected  listeners  —  Sam  Hapley  —  His  family  — 
The  mortgage  —  A  sad  change  —  Influence  of  large  boys  —  Power 
of  example — An  illustration — A  good  purpose, 43 

CHAPTER    IV. 

UP     THE     MOUNTAIN. 

An  abandoned  project — A  party  for  Prescott's  Peak  —  Anecdotes 
of  Rover  —  Other  knowing  dogs  —  Kouald's  story  —  Was  it  a 
lie?  —  A  cast-off  snake's  skin  —  Black  snakes  —  The  pond  — 
Mysterious  operations  —  Setting  the  water  afire — The  experi- 
ment explained — Fire-damps  —  Steamboats  engulfed  in  flames 
— The  Mountain  —  Old  Gooden  —  His  adventure  with  a  steel 
trap  —  How  he  lived  —  His  family  —  The  cabin  —  The  spruce 
gum  trade  —  A  foolish  habit  —  The  top  of  the  mountain  —  The 
view — A  monument  proposed — The  stones — The  pole  —  The 
descent  —  Something  left  behind  —  A  generous  and  a  mean  spirit 

—  I  ton  ii  Id's  return — Wearing  veils  —  The  reproof — The  veil 
restored  —  Difficulties  of  the  descent  —  The  lost  cap  —  "Tit  for 
tat" — The  cap  reclaimed  —  Arrival  home, 55 

CHAPTER    V. 

THE     BLOTTED     'WRITING-BOOK. 

A  welcome  announcement  —  Marcus  as  teacher — Favors  solicited 

—  Demonstrations  of  joy  —  A  sudden  change  —  Eonald's  expla- 


CONTENTS.  IX 

PAGE. 

nation — The  blotted  writing-book  —  Punishment — Resistance 
and  escape — An  omitted  particular  —  Assault  and  battery  — 
How  Marcus  proposed  to  settle  the  matter — Mrs.  Page's  misgiv- 
ings—  The  case  discussed — Nature  of  school  government  —  An 
interview  with  the  teacher  —  Her  version  of  the  affair  —  Ronald's 
impudence  —  The  writing-book  examined  —  A  discovery  —  The 
disgrace  of  expulsion  —  The  teacher's  terms  of  settlement  —  Ron- 
ald rejects  them — Motives  urged  —  Unhappiness  —  The  last 
resort — A  motive  that  cannot  be  resisted  —  Going  to  school  — 
Outside  annoyances — The  confession — The  teacher's  response  — 
Her  confession. — The  unknown  offender  —  Ronald  subdued,  .  .  75 


CIIAPTEK    VI. 

LETTER- W  BITING. 

How  Oscar  discharged  his  duties  —  His  lessons  —  Unanswered 
letters  — A  bad  way — The  day  devoted  to  letter-writing —  "  Yes  " 
and  "No" — Why  Marcus  spoke  of  the  subject  —  Wandering 
thoughts  —  A  strange  bird  —  A  day  dream  —  The  proud  conquest 

—  A  perilous  descent  —  The  prize  secured  —  The  dream  ended  — 
The  newspaper — Scribbling  —  Apologies — The  eagle  becomes  a 
hawk  —  Marcus  astonished  —  Oscar's  excuses  —  A  ride   lost — 
Finds  himself  a  prisoner  —  A  light  dinner  —  The  task  finished  — 
A  plan  to  encourage  letter-writing  —  Kate's  achievements  in  that 
line  —  A  domestic  post  office — The  plan  unfolded —  A  vote  taken 

—  Choosing  a  name  —  Rules  adopted, 92 

• 
CHAPTER    VII. 

THE     RAIN     POWER. 

The  letterbox  —  The  first  mail  —  The  invitation  —  A  storm  pre- 
dicted —  The  water  boils  away  —  The  prediction  fulfilled — Sorry 


:  CONTENTS. 

PAGE. 

mishaps  —  Fretfulness  —  Selfishness  —  The  rain  not  needless  — 
Quantity  not  excessive  —  A  few  calculations — Wonderful  results 
— Annual  fall  of  rain  —  Kainy  regions  —  Little  and  often  better 
than  much  and  seldom  —  Object  of  the  tropical  rains  —  How 
the  water  forms  clouds  —  Evaporation  —  Effects  of  heat  —  Why 
vapor  rises  —  Visible  vapors  —  Office  of  the  winds  —  Why  the 
rain  falls  —  Snow  and  hail — Snow  crystals  —  The  Sahara— 
South  American  deserts  —  Poetry  —  Bryant's  "  Rain  Dream,"  110 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

INSUBORDINATION. 

Marcus's  theory  of  government  —  How  it  worked  with  Oscar  — 
Apprehended  failure  —  A  consultation — A  forbidden  intimacy 

—  Tobacco  —  The  letter — Ten  arguments  against  tobacco,  and 
one  for  it  —  An  ineffectual  remonstrance  —  Mrs  Page's  decision 

—  Oscar  plainly  dealt  with  —  His  demeanor — The  circus  bill  — 
The  excitement  suddenly  allayed — Objections  to  the  circus  —  Os- 
car's opinion  —  A  caution  —  Arrival  of  the  circus  —  Oscar  visits 
the  grounds  —  Who  he  met  there  —  The  donkey  race  —  Otis — A 
recognition — An  unfortunate  exposure —  Alfred  Walton  —  An 
ofler —  Oscar  declines —  Solicitations  and  motives — He  is  pressed 
into  the  tent —  Late  return  home  —  Is  called  to  account  —  Pun- 
ishment —  A  prisoner  on  parole  —  Inviolability  of  the  parole  — 
The  Turkish  soldiers— Oscar 's  promise  — Repentings,     ...     131 


CHAPTER    IX. 

CORRESPONDENCE. 

The  "  Letter-writing  Society  "  —  A  letter  from  Oscar  to  Marcus  — 
An  explanation  — A  secret  trouble  — A  good  purpose  —  Marcus  to 


CONTENTS.  XI 


PAGE. 

Oscar— The  explanation  examined— The  blame  not  wholly  re- 
moved —  The  secret  —  Self-government  —  The  several  steps  —  An 
illustration  —  How  Mr.  Ease  is  snubbed  —  The  victory  —  Self-de- 
nial the  law  of  life  —  Power  of  habit  —  A  proposal  from  Otis — A 
criticism  by  Kate  —  The  critic  criticised  —  Advantage  of  not  tak- 
ing things  upon  trust  —  Kate  convicted  —  An  apology  —  Some- 
thing about  "the  old  maid"  —  One  of  her  letters — The  four 
dogs, 151 


CHAPTER    X. 

A     WOUNDED     CONSCIENCE. 

Ellen  Blake  —  A  place  wanted  —  A  suggestion  —  Mrs.  Page  decides 
to  take  Ellen — The  school  prizes — Another  blotted  writing- 
book —  Lewis  Daniels  —  His  singular  conduct — The  teacher's 
suspicions  — "What  she  said  to  Lewis  —  His  reply  —  Guilt  betrayed 
—  His  confession  —  A  singular  reason  for  blotting  his  book  — 
Another  sin  confessed  —  A  mystery  cleared  up —  Stings  of  con- 
science —  Seeking  peace  by  new  sins —  The  teacher's  forgiveness 

.  — A  duty  to  Ronald — A  duty  to  God  —  Prayer  —  Lewis  con- 
fesses his  fault  to  Ronald  —  Anger  checked  —  The  penitent  for- 
given —  The  examination  —  Ronald  takes  two  prizes,  ....  163 


CHAPTER    XI. 

INDOOR     AMUSEMENTS. 

A  disappointment — Amusements  —  The  new  play  —  "  Conglomer- 
ation " —  A  queer  medley  of  words  —  The  sentences  read  — 
Rare  sport — The  "  Hay  Mow  Debating  Society"  —  Questions 
discussed — A  riddle  —  A  puzzle — Turk  and  Christian  puzzle  — 
A  prolific  word  of  seven  letters  —  Angles  —  Oscar's  puzzle  — 


XII  CONTENTS. 

PAGE. 

Half  of  nine — The  Arabs  and  their  dinner — The  carpenter's 
dispute  —  Story  of  Audley.  the  miser — A  hard  bargain  —  Results 
of  arithmetical  progression  —  The  figure  9  —  Its  wonderful  prop- 
erties — Multiplying  by  5  —  Magic  Squares  —  Other  diversions,  174 


CHAPTER    XII. 

THE     NEWSPAPER. 

How  the  newspaper  originated  —  Its  name  —  How  it  was  managed 
— The  first  number  —  Disappointed  correspondents  —  A  surprise 
number — How  it  was  got  up — A  transcript  of  the  third  num- 
ber—  Lines  to  Ronald —  An  exercise  for  scholars  —  Nothing 
insignificant  —  I  can't  —  To  correspondents  —  News  items  — 
Small  beginnings — Vanity,  a  fable  —  Rover's  communication — 
The  snow — A  cunning  fellow  —  Gleanings, 193 


CIIAPTEll    XIII. 

HASTER     PAGE. 

The  new  satchel  —  Otis  homesick — Eonald's  impatience  —  The 
academy  commences  —  Incidents  of  the  first  day  —  Oscar  a  mon- 
itor—  Why  Otis  and  Ronald  were  not  seated  together — Lewis 
Daniels  — The  boy  who  did  n't  care  for  Marcus  —  Ronald's  nick- 
name —  Jessie  Hapley  —  Why  she  went  to  the  academy  — "  Try- 
ing to  be  somebody"  —  Abby  Leonard  —  Eating  chalk  and 
drinking  vinegar  —  Mr.  Upton's  sickness  —  Marcus  principal 
pro  tern. — An  alarming  proposal  —  He  accedes  to  it —  His  experi- 
ence as  principal — The  troublesome  boys  —  Marcus  re-seats 
them — The  snow  image  —  Charlie  Wilder  —  A  statue  in  snow  — 
What  is  required  to  make  a  statue  —  Drawing  — A  specimen  by 
Charlie— His  wish  gratified  — An  anonymous  note— Inter- 


CONTENTS.  XIII 

PAGE. 

dieted  keys —  Oscar  at  fault  —  The  rebuke — Ronald's  mischiev- 
ousness  —  Snapping  nut  shells  —  His  punishment  —  His  seat 
changed — An  increase  of  lessons  proposed  —  Required  for  his 
mental  discipline,  and  to  keep  him  out  of  mischief —  Otis  in 
school  —  A  hard  sum  —  What  Marcus  told  Georgiana  —  Why 
the  same  direction  would  not  answer  for  Otis  —  The  difference  in 
scholars  —  The  stimulus  of  shame  successfully  applied.  .  .  .  201 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

THE     TROUBLESOME     8CHOLAB. 

Harrison  Clark  —  A  threat  —  His  career  —  Assault  upon  his  teacher 

—  Trial  and  sentence  —  One  good  trait  —  Harrison's  mother — 
His  conduct  towards  Marcus  —  Kindness  repelled  —  Coughing — 
Objections  to  it  —  Can  be  controlled  —  Harrison's  impertinence 

—  Bears  in  town  —  Preparations  for  a  hunt  —  Warlike  appear- 
ances —  G  oing  off  at  recess  —  Requests  denied  —  Harrison's  flight 

—  Ineffectual  attempt  to  bring  him  back  —  The  hunting  party 
— Turkey  Hill  —  Forming  a  ring — Testing  the  connection  —  The 
advance  —  Closing   up  the  circle  —  Reports   of  muskets — The 
two  bears  —  Dragging  the  trophies  home  —  How  they  were  dis- 
posed of — Harrison  at  school  again  —  His  coolness  —  Detained 
after  school  —  How  he  enjoyed  the  hunt  —  Frankness  —  Marcus 
mildly  points  out  Harrison's  misconduct  —  Two  ways  of  meeting 
the  evil  —  Severity  and  kindness  —  Failure  of  both  —  Candid 
admissions  —  Expulsion  —  Its  evils  —  A  talk  about  Harrison's 
mother  —  A  frank  wa.rning  —  The  question  —  Subdued  bearing 

—  Harrison's  decision  —  Confession  of  his  fault  —  His  sincerity 
severely  tested  —  The  offence  forgiven — The  boy  saved,        .    .    222 

2 


XIV  CONTENTS 


CHAPTEE    XV. 

SAM     HAPLEY. 

PAGE. 

A  neglected  farm  —  Out  of  fuel  —  Going  to  the  wdbds — The  pipe 
and  jug  —  Parting  admonitions  —  A  scene  in  the  woods  —  Going 
home  —  Effects  of  the  cider — Greenwood  and  the  rheumatism 
—  The  cows  and  their  dinner  —  Benny  absent  —  Sam's  assault 
upon  him  —  His  father's  anger  —  Origin  of  the  trouble  —  A  scuf- 
fle between  Sam  and  his  father  —  Sam  bound  and  flogged  —  The 
outcry  —  Interference  —  Marcus  intercedes  —  A  rude  repulse  — 
Sam  released  —  Marcus  expostulates  —  He  is  silenced  —  Sam's 
disappearance  —  Absent  for  a  week  —  His  return  —  His  arrest  — 
Searching  for  stolen  property  —  It  is  found  —  A  sad  shock  to 
Jessie  —  Her  self-control  —  Growing  recklessness  of  Mr.  Hapley 
— A  visit  to  Sam  —  His  confession  —  His  flight — Adventures  on 
the  road  — Mack,  the  thief —  Housebreaking — The  alarm  —  Sam's 
escape  —  Mack  caught  —  How  Sam  was  tracked  —  Preparations 
for  the  trial — What  the  judge  thought  of  the  case  —  The  sen- 
tence,    242 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

MERRY     DAYS     AND     SAD     ONB8. 

A  merry  Christmas  —  "Who  got  the  start  ?  —  Presents  for  Oscar  — 
Letters  —  Loss  of  the  brig  "Susan" — Jerry  missing  —  The 
Christmas  festival  —  Declamations  and  dialogues  —  Tableaux  and 
music  —  The  Christmas  tree  —  Its  fruit  —  Santa  Glaus  —  His 
speech— Gathering  the  fruit  —  Refreshments  —  New  Year's 
morning  —  Sad  news  from  Benny  Hapley  —  Marcus  his  Sabbath 
school  teacher  —  His  interest  in  Benny  —  His  sadness  —  A  pleas- 
ant surprise  —  A  present  from  Harrison  —  His  gratitude  —  A 


CONTENTS.  XV 


visit  to  Benny  —  His  prediction  —  Anticipations  of  heaven  —  Mr. 
Hapley's  agony  —  His  promise  to  Benny  —  Benny's  coldness  — 
Growing  dark  —  A  mysterious  light  —  Parting  kisses  —  One  for 
Sam  —  The  spirit  takes  its  flight  —  Effects  of  the  scene  upon  Mar- 
cus —  His  new  purposes, 263 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

ADVERSITY. 

Mr.  Hapley  signs  the  pledge  —  Empties  his  liquors  —  A  desperate 
struggle  —  Opinions  of  the  neighbors  —  Mr.  Todd's  prediction  — 
How  it  was  treated  —  What  Mr.  Todd  was  supposed  to  be  after 
—  Uncharitableness  —  Difficulty  of  acquiring  self-government  in 
mature  life  —  Mazeppa  and  the  wild  horse  —  Mr.  Hapley's  re- 
lapse—  Loss  of  self-confidence  and  self-respect  —  A  visit  to  the 
rum-shop — His  prolonged  absence  —  A  terrible  snowstorm  — 
Henry  despatched  for  Marcus  —  Marcus  goes  in  search  of  Mr. 
Hapley  —  The  search  abandoned  —  Morning  —  The  frozen  horse 
and  rider  —  The  snow  grave  —  Poverty  —  Jessie's  trials  —  The 
administrator's  advice  —  Jessie's  plans  —  Her  self-sacrificing 
spirit  —  Words  of  comfort —  Henry's  brave  words  —  He  finds  a 
new  home  —  Jessie  provided  for  —  Mrs.  Hapley  returns  to  her 
father's 280 


CHAPTEE    XVIII. 

THE     DIALOGUE. 

Rivalry  among  the  academy  students  — The  motto  on  the  black- 
board—  Praiseworthy  motives  —  The  student's  true  motive  — 


XVI  CONTENTS. 

PAGE. 

Ronald's  request — The  plan  for  a  dialogue  —  How  Marcus  pro- 
posed to  help  Ronald  —  The  work  completed  —  Dialogue  of 
"  Head  and  Foot "  —  Speech  of  John  Head  — A  severe  examin- 
ation —  How  the  boys  were  put  through  their  paces  —  One 
pace  not  exhibited  —  An  explosion  —  AVliat  is  Congressional 
usage  —  The  prizes  —  Their  unequal  distribution  —  How  the 
.  boys  proposed  to  equalize  matters  —  John's  prize  volume  —  Mas- 
ter Foot  called  up  —  The  complimentary  address  —  The  presen- 
tation —  Dinner-pot  suggestions  —  Curious  resemblances  —  Foot 
doubts  his  claim  to  the  testimonial  — A  bet  —  Head  smells  a  rat, 
but  concludes  not  to  back  out  —  The  cabbage  fastened  upon 
him  —  The  wager  won — Master  Foot's  generosity  —  Master 
Head's  magnanimous  response— The  treat  —  View  of  the  testi- 
monial,   294 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

CLOSE     OB1     THE     TERM. 

Oscar's  disappointment  —  No  letter  from  home  — An  agreeable 
surprise — A  successful  examination  —  The  exhibition  —  The 
prizes  —  The  surprise  party  —  Presentation  to  Mr.  Upton — The 
"  Academy  Offering  "  —  Its  history  —  Mr.  Upton's  acceptance  of 
the  gift — Another  surprise  —  The  writing-desk  —  Harrison's 
address  to  Marcus — The  reply  —  A  secret  well  kept —  Gratitude 
of  Oscar's  parents —The  inscription  in  Oscar's  prize  volume,  .  308 


jfHvrfritifif. 


THE  CHRISTMAS  TREE,       .....      FRONTISPIECE. 

VIGNETTE, .      TITLE  PAGE. 

THE  SHEEP, 34 

AN  ORNAMENTED  FACE, 47 

THE  BLACK  SNAKE, £,9 

THE  MOUNTAIN  CABIN,          . 63 

THE  EAGLE'S  NEST. 98 

SNOW  CRYSTALS, 125 

DONKEY  RACE 141 

MAKING  FOUR  DOGS  OUT  OF  Two 162 

ANGLES, 182 

THE  GARDEN  TUZZLE  (two  figures) 

RONALD'S  SATCHEL 

THE  STAG  AND  DOG,      ......... 

MR.  HAPLEY  AND  HIS  FRIEND,    ...... 

THE  BURGLARS, 

MAZEPPA  ON  THE  WILD  HORSE,    ...... 

THE  TESTIMONIAL, 

2* 


M  ARC  US, 


CHAPTER   I. 

THE  PAGES. 

"mHERE'S   the  stage,  mother!     It's  coming 
round    the    Bend,  —  do  n't    you    hear    it  ? 
Hark!    how  near  it  sounds!      I  shall  see  it  in  a 
minute.     There  it  is,  now !      And  there 's  some- 
body on  the  top  with  Mr.  Peters ;  —  yes,  there  are 
two  or  three  persons.     I  '11  bet  Marcus  and  Oscar 
are  there ;  do  n't  you  believe  they  are  ?     I  'd  ride 
outside,  if  I  were  they ;  would  n't  you,  mother  ?  " 
"You  had  better  not  be  too  jubilant,  Ronald," 


20  OX     THE     LOOK-OUT. 

calmly  replied  the  lady  addressed.  "Have  you 
forgotten  how  disappointed  you  were  last  night  ?  " 

"  O,  well,  it  is  n't  likely  they  will  disappoint  us 
again,"  replied  the  boy.  "  I  know  they  will  come, 
this  time,  just  as  well  as  I  want  to.  See!  that's 
Marcus  himself — I  know  him  by  his  straw  hat,  and 
his  brown  linen  sack  that  he  wore  to  keep  the  dust 
off  his  clothes.  And  that  boy  by  the  side  of  him 
is  Cousin  Oscar,  is  n't  it  ?  Look !  is  n't  that  Oscar, 
Aunt  Fanny?" 

Aunt  Fanny  looked  towards  the  stage-coach, 
still  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  mile  distant ;  but  her 
eyes  were  not  sharp  enough  to  distinguish  the 
countenance  of  any  one  upon  it,  and  she  could  not 
relieve  the  impatient  boy  from  his  suspense. 

"I  wonder  what  he  looks  like,  any  way,"  resumed 
Ronald.  "I  can  tell,  just  as  soon  as  I  see  him, 
whether  I  shall  like  him  or  not.  Why,  I  should 
think  he  was  as  big  as  Sam  Hapley.  He  looks  a 
little  like  him,  too,  from  here,  does  n't  he,  mother?  " 

"I  can't  tell;  he  is  hardly  within  the  range  of 
my  vision,  yet,"  replied  Mrs.  Page. 

"  Now  Marcus  is  pointing  this  way,"  continued 
llonald.  "  I'  11  bet  he  sees  me,  and  is  telling  Oscar 


THE     STAGE-COACH.  21 

who  I  am.  Why,  mother,  can 't  you  sec  them  now  ? 
I  can  almost  hear  them  talk." 

"Yes,  that  is  Marcus,  and  there  is  Oscar,  too," 
said  Aunt  Fanny,  after  gazing  a  few  moments  at 
the  approaching  coach. 

"  Did  n't  I  tell  yoii  so !  "  exclaimed  Ronald,  rub- 
bing his  hands  with  glee,  and  dancing  on  the  green 
sward  around  the  door.  "  Speak  to  them,  Rover ! " 
he  added,  calling  to  a  handsome  spaniel  that  lay  in 
the  middle  of  the  road,  beneath  the  shade  of  a  tree. 

The  dog  sprang  to  meet  the  stage-coach,  which 
was  now  within  a  few  rods  of  the  house  ;  and,  rec- 
ognizing his  master,  he  frisked  around  the  horses, 
and  manifested  his  satisfaction  by  a  variety  of  sig- 
nificant signs. 

Mr.  Peters,  the  driver,  reined  up  his  hvrses  at 
the  farm  house,  and  a  young  man,  about  eighteen 
years  of  age,  jumped  off,  followed  by  a  lad  some 
three  years  younger.  The  first  of  these  was  Mar- 
cus Page,  and  this  was  his  home,  from  which  he 
had  been  absent  about  ten  days,  on  a  visit  to  Bos- 
ton, and  other  places  in  Massachusetts.  The  other 
passenger  was  his  cousin,  Oscar  Prestor,,  whose 
parents  resided  in  Boston,  but  who  had  come  to 


22  GREETINGS. 

live  with  the  family  for  a  season.  He  appeared  a 
little  embarrassed,  as  he  extended  his  hand  to  his 
two  aunts,  Mrs.  Page,  and  her  maiden  sister,  Miss 
Lee  ;  but  the  cordial  welcome  which  they  extended 
to  him,  instantly  put  him  at  his  ease.  Meanwhile, 
little  Ronald  was  gazing  earnestly  at  the  new 
comer,  evidently  settling  in  his  mind  the  important 
question  which  was  to  be  decided  at  first  sight, 
when  Marcus  said  — 

"  Here,  Oscar,  let  me  make  you  acquainted  with 
Master  Ronald,  my  proteye.  Ronald,  this  is  Cousin 
Oscar.  You  will  soon  be  good  friends,  if  I  am  not 
greatly  mistaken." 

The  boys  shook  hands,  and  then  Ronald,  proffer- 
ing his  services,  helped  Oscar  to  carry  his  trunk 
into  the  house.  By  the  time  the  travellers  had  re- 
moved the  dust  from  their  persons  and  clothing, 
supper  was  ready,  and  the  family  sat  down  to  the 
table.  Much  of  the  conversation,  during  the  meal, 
was  addressed  to  Oscar,  and  many  inquiries  were 
made  concerning  his  parents,  sisters,  and  brothers. 
He  sustained  his  part  with  the  ease  and  freedom 
of  one  who  is  accustomed  to  society,  his  first  shy- 
ness having  quite  disappeared.  Ronald  watched 


O  S  C  A  B  .  23 

him  with  much  interest,  and  seemed  still  in  doubt 
whether  to  like  him  or  not.  After  tea,  when  Oscar 
had  gone  out  with  Marcus  to  the  barn,  Miss  Lee, 
remembering  Ronald's  remark,  inquired  — 

"  Well,  Ronald,  what  do  you  think  of  Oscar  ?  " 

"  I  think  he  feels  pretty  smart ;  and  I  never  saw 
a  city  chap  but  what  did,"  replied  Ronald. 

"  Why,  what  makes  you  think  so  ?  "  inquired 
Miss  Lee. 

"  I  do  n't  know  —  I  can 't  tell,"  said  the  boy,  hesi- 
tatingly. 

"  But  if  you  do  really  think  so,  you  ought  to  be 
able  to  give  a  reason  for  it,"  added  Miss  Lee. 

"  Well,"  continued  Ronald,  "  I  suppose  it 's  be- 
cause he  speaks  up  so  smart,  and  eats  so  genteelly, 
and  wears  such  nice  «lothes,  and  —  and  is  so  good- 
looking,"  he  added,  laughing  at  the  idea. 

"  I  think  you  are  mistaken  in  him,"  replied  Miss 
Lee.  "  His  dress  is  such  as  boys  in  the  city,  of 
his  age  and  class,  usually  wear;  and  his  manners 
are  those  of  a  boy  who  is  familiar  with  good  so- 
ciety. Perhaps  he  is  a  trifle  too  forward,  for  one  of 
his  age,  — I  think  a  little  bashfulncss  becomes  a  boy, 
sometimes ;  but  I  never  saw  anything  like  pride  in 


24  T  H  E     F  A  R  M  . 

him.  He  has  been  about  the  world  a  good  deal, 
for  one  so  young,  and  that,  I  suppose,  has  Avorn  off 
his  bashfulness." 

"Then  I  guess  I  shall  like  him,  if  he  isn't 
proud,"  said  Ronald,  and  aAvay  he  ran,  to  join  Mar- 
cus and  Osear,  who  were  taking  a  general  survey 
of  the  farm. 

Mrs.  Page's  farm  is  situated  in  one  of  the  pleas- 
ant mountain  towns  in  Vermont,  which,  if  it  does 
not  bear  the  name  of  Highburg  on  the  map,  will 
not,  we  trust,  resent  the  act,  if  we  venture  to  give 
it  that  designation,  in  this  volume.  It  is  located 
at  the  foot  and  on  the  sides  of  the  Green  Moun~ 
tains,  and  within  sight  of  one  of  their  highest 
peaks,  the  Camel's  Hump.  Mr.  Page  Avas  a  sea 
captain,  who,  thinking  it  more  pleasant  to  plough 
the  land  than  the  AvaA*e,  purchased  this  farm  in  his 
native  State,  intending  to  make  it  his  residence. 
When  the  IICAV  house  and  barns  Avere  completed, 
and  the  farm  stocked  with  herds  and  flocks,  and 
everything  ready  for  occupancy,  Capt.  Page  found 
that  his  money  Avas  all  spent.  Not  having  confidence 
enougli  in  his  agricultural  skill  to  enter  upon  his 
new  sphere  of  life  Avithout  something  in  hand  for 


THE     LAST     VOYAGE.  25 

an  emergency,  he  determined  to  make  one  more 
voyage  before  he  abandoned  the  sea.  So  he  en- 
gaged a  man  to  manage  the  farm  during  his  ab- 
sence, and,  removing  Mrs.  Page  and  Marcus  to 
their  new  home,  he  sailed  on  a  whaling  cruise,  ex- 
pecting to  be  .gone  about  three  years.  It  proved 
his  last  voyage  in  a  sadder  sense  than  he  intended, 
for  he  never  returned  from  it.  Three,  five,  ten 
years  passed  away,  but  the  missing  ship  was  never 
heard  from,  and  the  owner  of  the  farm  never  came 
back  to  enjoy  the  pleasant  home  he  had  prepared 
for  himself.  Mr.  Burr,  whom  Capt.  Page  employed 
to  oversee  the  farm,  had  managed  its  out-door  af- 
fairs during  all  this  period,  although  Marcus,  within 
a  few  years,  had  taken  a  good  share  of  the  burden 
upon  himself.  During  the  winter  months,  indeed 
Marcus  now  undertook  the  whole  management  of 
the  farm.  At  this  time  the  stock  consisted  of  two 
horses,  six  or  eight  head  of  cattle,  about  seventy- 
five  sheep,  and  a  quantity  of  poultry. 

"When  Oscar  returned  to  the  house,  he  found  a 
boy  and  girl  seated  at  the  supper  table,  who  were 
introduced  to  them  as  Katharine  and  Otis  Sedg- 

wick.     They  were   brother   and  sister,  and  were 
3 


26  RONALD. 

pupils  of  the  village  academy,  a  mile  or  more  dis- 
tant. Katharine  was  about  fourteen  years  old,  and 
Otis  some  two  years  younger.  They  boarded  at 
Mrs.  Page's,  and,  with  the  persons  already  named, 
constituted  the  entire  family. 

Ronald,  who  called  Mrs.  Page  mother,  was  a 
boy  about  twelve  years  old,  whom  she  had  under- 
taken to  bring  up.  His  pai-ents  were  French  Cana- 
dians, who  had  emigrated  to  the  vicinity  of  High- 
burg,  where  they  both  died  within  a  short  time, 
leaving  the  poor  child  without  friends  or  money. 
He  was  then  about  eight  years  old.  Some  of  the 
kind  people  of  the  town  wished  to  prevent  his 
becoming  a  pauper,  and  tried  to  find  a  home  for 
him  ;  but,  although  he  was  a  bright  and  interesting 
child,  he  could  not  speak  English  very  plain,  and 
was,  moreover,  very  strange  and  wild  in  his  man- 
ners and  appearance,  so  that  no  one  was  willing  to 
take  him.  Pitying  his  friendless  lot,  Mrs.  Page  at 
length  offered  to  keep  him  a  few  weeks,  till  other 
arrangements  could  be  made  in  his  behalf.  A  month 
sped  by,  and  no  door  opened  for  the  little  orphan 
but  that  of  the  poor-house.  Wild,  ignorant,  unused 
to  restraints,  full  of  mischief,  incapable  of  speaking 


RONALD'S    HISTORY.  27 

or  understanding  the  language  of  the  family,  and, 
in  fact,  almost  as  uncivilized  as  an  Indian  child, 
Mrs.  Page  found  the  new  care  a  burden  too  great, 
and  concluded  that  she  must  give  up  her  charge  to 
the  town  authorities. 

When  Marcus  heard  of  this  decision,  he  felt  very 
badly.  Thcr.e  was  something  about  the  little 
stranger,  and  his  pitiable  condition,  that  won  upon 
his  heart.  So  he  put  in  a  plea  with  his  mother 
and  Aunt  Fanny  in  his  behalf,  and  by  way  of  fur- 
ther inducement,  volunteered  his  own  assistance  in 
educating  and  training  the  child !  Such  an  offer, 
from  a  boy  who  had  but  just  passed  his  fourteenth 
birth-day,  might  provoke  a  smile  from  some  people, 
and  very  properly,  too.  But  neither  Mrs.  Page 
nor  her  sister  thought  of  laughing  at  the  sugges- 
tion. Marcus  was  not  only  a  good  scholar  and  a 
good  boy,  but  he  was  more  manly  and  mature,  both 
in  mind  and  body,  than  many  youth  of  his  age. 
A§  Ronald  was  more  than  six  years  his  junior,  it 
seemed  plausible  that  Marcus  might  assist  very 
much  in  making  a  man  of  him,  and  thus  relieve  his 
mother  of  a  portion  of  the  care.  It  was  decided  to 
try  the  experiment,  and  the  result  was  so  successful, 


28  THE     WILD     BOY     TAMED. 

that  Mr.  Upton,  the  principal  of  the  academy,  gave 
Marcus  the  title  of  "  The  Boy-Tamer."  The  boys 
soon  became  greatly  attached  to  each  other,  and 
Marcus,  by  his  example,  influence  and  teachings, 
assisted  very  much  iu  reclaiming  the  little  savage. 
After  a  year  or  two,  he  was  able  to  take  upon 
himself  almost  the  entire  management  of  Ronald* 
directing  his  studies,  imposing  upon  him  his  daily 
tasks  about  the  farm,  and  generally  exercising  over 
him  the  authority  and  discipline  of  a  father.  Ro- 
nald, indeed,  used  sometimes  to  speak  of  him  sport- 
ively as  his  "  adopted  father,"  and  no  doubt  he 
seemed  somewhat  like  a  parent  to  the  fatherless 
boy.  His  name,  originally,  was  Ronald  Doucette ; 
but  his  new  friends  had  given  him  their  own  name 
of  Page,  retaining  Doucette  as  a  middle  name. 

"How  do  you  think  Oscar  appears,  mother?" 
inquired  Marcus,  as  soon  as  the  withdrawal  of  the 
young  folks  to  their  bed-rooms  left  him  alone  witli 
his  mother  and  aunt. 

"  Very  well,"  replied  Mrs.  Page.  "  He  is  a  boy 
that  can  make  a  good  appearance,  if  he  chooses 
to.  How  does  he  seem  pleased  Avith  Ms  new 
home  ?  " 


TALK     ABOUT     OSCAR.  29 

"  He  does  n't  say  much  about  it,"  replied  Marcus. 
"  But  he  said,  before  we  left  Boston,  that  he  was 
determined  to  be  contented,  whether  or  no.  He 
is  glad  enough  to  come  here,  and  I  think  he  means 
to  behave  well.  I  told  him  this  was  probably  his 
last  chance,  and  that  if  he  did  not  do  well  here,  he 
would  have  to  go  back  to  the  Reform  School,  and 
serve  his  full  sentence  out.  But  I  do  n't  think  we 
shall  have  much  trouble  with  him.  He  has  behaved 
well  in  the  institution,  and  he  says  he  is  deter- 
mined to  reform." 

"And  yet  I  am  afraid  he  will  find  more  difficul- 
ties in  the  way  than  he  imagines,"  interposed  Mrs. 
Page. 

"But  the  difficulties  here  are  nothing  to  what 
they  would  be  in  the  city,"  added  Marcus.  "Xo- 
body  need  know  anything  about  his  past  life, 
here,  and  besides,  he  will  be  out  of  the  way  of  his 
old  associates  and  temptations." 

"  I  think  we  ought  to  be  very  careful,"  said  Aunt 
Fanny,  "  never  to  say  anything  about  his  past  bad 
conduct,  even  to  him.  Nothing  would  discourage 
him  so  much  as  to  have  it  known  here  that  he 

had  been  a  bad  boy." 
3* 


30  0  S  C  A  K  '  S     CHARACTER. 

"  I  told  him,"  replied  Marcus,  "  that  nobody  here 
but  we  three  knew  anything  about  that, —  not 
even  Ronald;  and  I  promised  that  it  should  be 
kept  a  secret,  so  long  as  he  behaved  well.  He 
seemed  very  glad  to  hear  it." 

"  Pie  certainly  has  a  favorable  opportunity  to 
make  a  new  start  in  life,  and  I  hope  he  will 
improve  it,"  said  Mrs.  Page. 

"  We  shall  have  to  take  a  little  time  to  study  his 
character,  before  we  can  tell  exactly  how  to  man- 
age him,"  continued  Marcus.  "  I  found  out  every- 
thing I  could  about  him  from  his  mother,  and  I 
think  I  begin  to  understand  his  disposition.  The 
great  lesson  he  has  got  to  learn,  is,  to  govern  him- 
self. Now  that  he  has  found,  by  experience,  that 
if  he  does  not  put  himself  under  restraint,  others 
will  do  it  for  him,  I  think  he  is  in  a  good  state  to 
learn  this  lesson." 

The  subject  of  these  remarks  Avas  at  this  time 
between  fifteen  and  sixteen  years  of  age.  He  had 
been  a  headstrong,  wayward  boy,  and  had  given 
his  parents  much  pain.  At  one  time,  they  sent 
him  to  live  with  an  uncle  in  the  village  of  Brook- 
dale,  in  Maine,  for  the  purpose  of  getting  him 


OSCAR'S     CAREER.  31 

away  from  his  evil  associates ;  but  while  there,  he 
set  fire  to  a  large  quantity  of  cut  wood,  which  was 
destroyed,  and  was  in  consequence  sent  to  jail, 
from  which  he  was  released  only  on  his  father's 
promise  to  remove  him  from  the  State.  He  was 
then  sent  on  a  short  voyage  to  sea,  but  came  back 
worse  than  before.  His  next  downward  step  was 
to  join  a  band  of  juvenile  thieves ;  but  his  course 
was  shortly  afterward  checked  by  his  arrest,  trial, 
and  sentence  to  the  Reform  School  during  his 
minority,  —  that  is,  until  he  should  be  twenty-one 
years  old.  After  he  had  remained  in  this  insti- 
tution about  four  months,  his  conduct  having 
been  good,  and  Mrs.  Page,  at  the  solicitation  of 
Marcus,  having  offered  to  receive  him  into  her 
family  and  endeavor  to  reform  him,  he  was  released 
by  the  officers,  and  given  over  to  the  care  of  his 
aunt  and  cousin  ;  and  his  appearance  in  Highburg, 
at  this  time,  was  in  accordance  with  this  arrange- 
ment.* 

*  The  character  and  career  of  Oscar  are  more  fully  set  forth 
in  the  first  two  volumes  of  this  series,  namely,  "  Oscar,"  aiid 
"  Clinton." 


CHAPTER  II. 


THE     NEAV- 

rriHE  new-comer,  Oscar,  was  very  naturally  the  re- 
cipient of  much  attention,  for  a  few  days  after 
his  arrival.  The  advent  of  such  a  big  boy  in  the  fam- 
ily was  an  event  of  no  trifling  importance,  in  the  eyes 
of  the  younger  members  of  the  household.  Was 
he  not  a  real  Boston  boy,  and  had  he  not  seen  so 
much  of  city  life  that,  in  his  own  language,  he  was 
sick  of  it  ?  Had  he  not  also  resided  for  months 
together  in  two  or  three  other  towns,  far  away 
from  his  home  ?  And,  most  strange  of  all,  had  he 
not  actually  made  a  voyage  to  the  West  Indies,  in 
the  capacity  of  sailor-boy?  So,  at  least,  it  was 
currently  reported,  and  so  they  all  believed  ;  and 
surely  a  boy  who  had  seen  so  much  of  the  world 
must  be  something  of  a  hero,  they  reasoned.  Mean- 


PLANS.  33 

while,  the  older  members  of  the  family  were  quietly 
watching  their  new  charge,  studying  his  disposi- 
tion, gaining  insight  into  the  secret  springs  of  his 
character,  and  taking  the  measure  of  his  mental 
acquirements  and  capacities. 

Oscar  was  expecting  to  attend  the  academy, 
during  the  coming  winter ;  but  as  it  was  now  well 
advanced  in  the  autumn  term,  he  was  to  study  at 
home  until  the  new  term  commenced,  about  two 
months  from  this  time,  it  being  now  the  latter  part 
of  September.  Marcus  had  graduated  at  this 
academy,  a  year  previous,  and  had  been  invited  to 
serve  as  assistant  teacher,  the  coming  winter. 

"  What  shall  I  do  ?  "  inquired  Oscar,  the  morning 
after  his  arrival,  as  he  perceived  that  all  the  family 
were  busily  at  work. 

"  You  need  not  do  anything,  just  yet,"  replied 
his  aunt.  "You  can  look  on  and  see  us  work, 
through  the  rest  of  this  week,  or  amuse  yourself  in 
any  way  you  please.  By  next  Monday  we  will 
find  something  for  you  to  do,  and  you  can  com- 
mence your  studies,  too,  at  the  same  time." 

The  few  days  of  leisure  thus  granted  to  Oscar 
did  not  hang  veiy  heavily  upon  his  hands.  He 


34  THE     SHEEP. 

found  many  things  to  interest  and  amuse  him, 
about  the  farm.  The  greatest  novelty  to  him, 
however,  were  the  sheep,  for  he  had  never  before 
lived  where  these  pretty  creatures  formed  a  part 
of  the  farm  stock.  The  pasture  where  they  were 
kept  became  at  once  an  attractive  place,  and  it  must 


be  confessed  that  the  groups  of  sheep  and  lambs, 
quietly  nibbling  the  grass,  or  reclining  at  their  ease 
in  the  beams  of  the  morning  sun,  formed  as  beau- 
tiful a  scene  as  could  be  found  upon  the  farm.  The 


WILLING    IDLENESS.  35 

cattle,  horses,  pigs  and  poultry,  the  capacious  barns, 
with  the  deep  and  lofty  hay-mows,  the  dairy,  gran- 
ary, tool-house  and  wood-house, — these,  also,  though 
more  familiar  objects  to  Oscar,  were  not  without 
their  attractions  for  him;  while  he  found  a  still 
further  source  of  amusement  in  accompanying 
Marcus  and  Ronald,  as  they  went  about  their  daily 
duties  on  the  farm. 

Marcus  was  a  little  sorry  to  notice  that  Oscar 
did  not  appear  to  find  idleness  very  irksome,  nor 
to  feel  much  anxiety  about  making  himself  useful. 
He  seemed  to  think  he  had  received  a  full  dis- 
charge from  labor  for  the  rest  of  the  week,  and  gave 
himself  no  more  concern  about  it  than  though  he  was 
merely  a  boarder,  like  Katie  and  Otis,  with  whom 
he  spent  a  good  portion  of  his  time.  There  were 
many  little  things  in  which  his  assistance,  cheer- 
fully offered,  would  have  been  accepted  with  pleas- 
ure ;  but  we  are  sorry  to  say  that  these  evidences 
of  a  "  willing  mind  "  were  entirely  wanting. 

And  yet  Oscar  went  to  Highburg  with  the  deter- 
mination of  breaking  up  his  old  habits  of  idle- 
ness, and  tho  terms  upon  which  he  was  received 
into  the  family,  had  been  arranged  with  this  end 


36  THE    AGBEEMEJTT. 

in  view.  He  was  to  remain  here  not  less  than  two 
years.  His  father  insisted  upon  paying  for  his 
board,  clothing  and  schooling,  during  his  residence 
here ;  but  as  one  great  object  of  the  plan  was  to 
teach  him  to  be  industrious  and  useful,  it  was  stip- 
ulated that  he  should  do  his  share  of  the  work  on 
the  farm,  at  all  seasons  of  the  year.  It  was  further 
agreed  that  a  fair  sum  should  be  allowed  him  for 
his  services,  to  be  paid  to  his  father  at  the  end  of 
each  year.  If  Oscar's  conduct  was  satisfactory, 
this  amount  was  to  be  paid  over  to  him,  when  he 
reached  the  age  of  twenty-one.  He  thus  had  a 
real  inducement  to  labor,  in  addition  to  the  earnest 
entreaties  of  his  parents ;  and  lest  both  of  these 
motives  should  prove  insufficient,  Marcus  and  his 
mother  were  authorized,  as  a  last  resort,  to  enforce 
the  fulfilment  of  Oscar's  part  of  the  contract,  by 
any  means  they  saw  fit  to  employ.  His  parents 
well  knew  that  he  could  not  be  effectually  reformed, 
until  lie  had  acquired  habits  of  industry. 

Nothing  more  was  said  to  Oscar  about  work, 
until  Saturday  afternoon,  when  Marcus,  finding  the 
boys  engaged  in  pitching  jack-knives  on  the  barn 
floor,  accosted  his  cousin  as  follows : 


FA  IK    PLAY     ENJOINED.  37 

"I  suppose, Oscar,  that  you  begin  to  feel  as  though 
you  would  like  something  to  do  ?  " 

"  "Why,  yes,  I  am  almost  tired  of  doing  nothing," 
replied  Oscar,  shutting  up  his  knife,  and  putting  it 
in  his  pocket. 

"Well,  I  can  tell  you  something  about  your 
work  and  studies,  noAV,  if  you  wish,"  continued 
Marcus.  "A  good  deal  of  your  work,  for  awhile, 
will  consist  of  odd  jobs,  which  I  cannot  tell  you 
about  until  they  come  along.  For  the  present  you 
must  be  ready  for  anything,  in  an  emergency ;  we 
will  be  able,  by  and  by,  to  systematize  the  work  a 
little  better,  so  that  you  need  n't  rob  Ronald  or  me 
of  our  shares." 

"  No  danger  of  that,  I  guess !  "  said  Oscar,  with 
a  laugh. 

"  I  do  n't  know  about  that,"  continued  Marcus. 
"  "We  do  n't  have  a  very  great  amount  of  out-door 
work  in  the  fall  and  winter,  and  with  three  pairs 
of  hands  to  divide  it  amongst,  I  'm  afraid  we  may 
not  all  get  our  share,  if  we  do  n't  have  an  under- 
standing about  it.  There 's  one  department,  how- 
ever, that  you  shall  have  the  sole  charge  of. 
Come  this  way." 


38  LOKD    OF    THE     WOOD-SHED. 

He  led  the  way  to  the  wood-house,  followed  by 
the  boys,  and  added  :— 

"  There,  Oscar,  you  shall  be  lord  of  the  wood- 
shed ;  and  if  any  body  meddles  with  the  saw,  axe, 
chips,  or  wood-pile,  without  your  leave,  just  let  me 
know  it.  Only  you  must  understand  that  if  I 
should  want  to  chop  a  stick  occasionally,  by  way  of 
exercise,  I  shall  have  the  liberty  to  do  it." 

"  Oh  yes,  I  '11  agree  to  that,"  replied  Oscar. 

"And  I  too  —  I  like  to  split  wood  once  in  a 
while,"  interposed  Otis. 

"And  so  do  I,"  added  Ronald. 

"No,  no,  boys,  you  are  not  to  touch  anything 
here  without  Oscar's  leave,"  said  Marcus.  "  He  is 
to  be  captain  here,  so  you  had  better  stand  round. 
You  see,  Oscar,  there  is  a  large  pile  ready  for  use, 
now.  My  rule  is,  to  saw  and  split  a  little  more 
every  week  than  we  use,  so  as  to  have  a  good  sup- 
ply ahead,  when  cold  weather  sets  in.  I  think  you 
had  better  keep  on  in  the  same  way,  and  make  it  a 
business,  every  day,  or  at  least  every  other  day,  to 
add  a  little  to  the  pile.  It  will  also  be  a  part  of 
your  work  to  see  that  a  supply  of  wood  is  carried 
into  the  house  every  day." 


BARN     WORK.  39 

"  I  '11  help  carry  the  wood  in,"  said  Ronald. 

"  But  I  told  you  not  to  interfere  with  his  busi- 
ness," replied  Marcus. 

"  Well,  if  he  does  n't  like  it,  then  I  wont  do  it," 
rejoined  Ronald,  laughing. 

"As  to  the  other  work,"  resumed  Marcus,  "I 
shall  want  you  to  help  cut  up  the  hay,  for  one  thing." 

"  I  know  how  to  do  that,"  said  Oscar. 

"  There  will  be  a  good  deal  of  hay  to  cut,  by  and 
by,  when  the  horses,  cattle  and  sheep  are  all  put 
up  in  the  barn.  And  roots,  too  —  we  shall  soon 
begin  to  feed  them  out,  and  they  will  have  to  be 
cut." 

"  I  know  how  to  do  that,  too,"  added  Oscar. 

"  You  can  help  about  feeding  the  animals,  too. 
I  think  I  shall  let  you  have  the  whole  care  of  the 
pigs,  to  begin  with,  after  a  day  or  two.  You  will 
find  them  very  interesting  pets  —  especially  the  old 
sow ! "  he  added,  with  a  laugh. 

"  I  might  feed  the  horses,"  suggested  Oscar,  whose 
fancy  for  hogs  was  not  very  largely  developed. 

"  So  you  can,  and  I  want  you  to  learn  to  bed 
them,  and  clean  them  out,  and  rub  them  down, 

too." 


40  SUNDRY    JOBS. 

"I  know  how  to  do  all  that — I  used  to  do  it  down 
to  Brookdale,  very  often,"  replied  Oscar. 

"And  I  should  like  to  have  you  help  about  milk- 
ing ;  do  you  understand  that  ?  "  inquired  Marcus. 

"  I  know  a  little  about  it,  but  I  never  liked  it 
very  well,"  replied  Oscar,  with  some  hesitation. 

"  O,  well,  I  dare  say  you  will  like  it  better  after 
you  get  used  to  it,"  said  Marcus.  "But  if  you 
shouldn't,  it  wont  make  much  difference.  We  all 
have  to  do  some  jobs  that  are  not  so  pleasant  as 
others." 

"  I  like  to  milk  —  only  it  tires  my  wrists,"  said 
Ronald.  "  I  can  milk  one  cow,  all  alone,  but  Mar- 
cus wont  let  me,  very  often." 

"Next  week,"  continued  Marcus, "  we  must  gather 
our  apples,  and  you  can  help  us  about  that.  Then 
there  will  be  the  carrots,  beets,  turnips  and  cab- 
bages to  get  in,  the  seed-corn  to  harvest,  corn  to 
husk,  snow  to  shovel,  wood  to  haul,  and  various 
other  jobs  to  do,  through  the  winter.  Do  you  think 
you  can  do  your  share  of  all  this?" 

"I'll  try  to,"  replied  Oscar. 

"  Then  there  are  your  studies  to  be  attended  to," 
resumed  Marcus.  "  I  shall  make  out  a  list  of  them, 


PLAY-TIME.  41 

for  each  day  in  the  week,  while  you  study  at  home. 
And  you  must  have  some  time  for  play,  in  addition 
to  all  the  rest,  for  '  all  Avork  and  no  play  makes  Jack 
a  dull  boy.'  The  first  thing,  every  day,  will  be  to 
attend  to  your  regular  morning's  work.  Then,  if 
there  are  any  errands  or  extra  jobs  to  be  done, 
they  will  come  next  in  order.  After  that,  you 
will  get  your  lessons,  and  then  will  come  the  play- 
time." 

"How  much  time  will  he  have  for  play?"  in- 
quired Otis. 

"  That  will  depend  very  much  upon  his  diligence 
in  doing  his  work  and  getting  his  lessons,"  replied 
Marcus. 

"  I  sha  n't  want  much  play-time,"  said  Oscar,  with 
a  significant  glance  towards  the  couple  of  twelve- 
year-old  urchins,  who  were  evidently  counting  upon 
his  companionship  in  their  sports. 

"  So  much  the  better,"  replied  Marcus  with  per- 
fect indifference,  although,  in  his  mind,  he  had  some 
doubts  about  the  last  assertion. 

Marcus  had  previously  examined  Oscar  in  his 
studies,  and,  in  the  course  of  the  afternoon,  he 

gave  him  lessons  for  the  coming  Monday,  and  also 
4* 


42 


DAILY    LESSONS. 


handed  him  a  written  list  of  studies  for  each  day 
in  the  week.    The  list  is  as  follows : — 


ORDER  OF  STUDIES  TOR  OSCAR  PRESTON. 


ON  MONDAY. 
Writing, 
Grammar, 
Arithmetic. 

ON   TUESDAY. 

Grammar, 

Geography, 

Arithmetic. 

ON  WEDNESDAY, 
Writing. 
Grammar. 


ON  THURSDAY. 

Writing 

Geography, 

Gramrilar. 

ON   FRIDAY. 

Geography, 
Arithmetic, 
Writing. 

ON  SATURDAY. 

Arithmetic, 
Composition. 


Reading,  Spelling  and  Defining,  daily. 


CHAPTER  III. 

A    BOY'S    INFLUENCE. 

silly  boys!  what  are  you  doing?"  ex- 
claimed Kate,  one  afternoon,  as  she  found  her 
brother  and  Ronald  seated  on  a  log  behind  the 
barn,  busily  engaged  in  pricking  Indian  ink  into 
their  hands,  with  needles. 

"  You  go  away ;  we  do  n't  want  you  here,"  replied 
Otis,  with  rudeness,  still  pricking  away  with  his 
needle,  while  the  red  and  blue  —  the  blood  and  ink 
—  mingled  and  covered  the  spot  upon  which  he 
was  at  work. 

"  There !  it  hurts,  I  know  it  does,"  said  Kate,  as 
her  brother  contracted  his  brows,  and  drew  in  his 
breath.  "  What  ninnies  you  are  to  torture  your- 
selves in  that  way,  just  for  the  sake  of  having  some 
nasty  ink  pricked  into  your  skin,  where  you  never 
can  get  it  out  again ! " 


44  PKICKINGS     VS.    BORIHGS. 

"I  don't  believe  it  hurts  any  more  than  having 
your  ears  bored;  do  you,  Otis?"  observed  Ronald, 
remembering  that  Kate  had  lately  submitted  to  the 
last-named  operation. 

"  Ko ;  and  't  is  n't  any  more  foolish,  either,"  re- 
plied Otis. 

"  Why,  how  absurd ! "  exclaimed  Kate.  "  Ladies 
have  to  get  their  ears  bored,  to  wear  ear-rings,  and 
besides,  it  does  n't  hurt  hardly  any  to  bore  them. 
I  'm  sure  there  's  no  comparison  between  the  two 
things." 

She  did  not  stop  to  hear  what  answer  might  be 
made  to  this  remark,  and  perhaps  it  was  well  that 
she  did  not. 

"  It  does  hurt,  though ! "  exclaimed  Otis,  as  soon 
as  his  sister  was  out  of  hearing.  "  O,  does  n't  it 
smart !  Come,  let 's  stop,  now,  and  finish  it  some 
other  time." 

"  No,  I  Ve  got  mine  almost  done,  and  I  'm  going 
to  finish  it  now,"  replied  Ronald,  who  was  possessed 
of  more  endurance  than  his  comrade. 

Ronald  persevered,  and  in  a  few  minutes,  wiping 
off  the  blood  and  ink,  a  rude  resemblance  to  a  star 
appeared  in  the  red,  inflamed  flesh,  between  his 


INDIAN    INK    ORNAMENTS.  45 

thumb  and  forefinger.  He  seemed  quite  proud  of 
the  achievement,  and  going  into  the  house,  and 
extending  his  hand  to  Miss  Lee,  he  accosted  her 
with — 

"  See  there,  Aunt  Fanny !  " 

"And  see  that,  too!"  said  Otis,  exhibiting  his 
mark.  "Mine  isn't  done  yet,  yon  see.  It  was  so 
sore  I  had  to  stop,  but  I  'm  going  to  finish  it  some 
other  time." 

"  What  put  it  into  your  heads  to  do  that  ?  "  in- 
quired Miss  Lee. 

"  O,  nothing,  —  only  the  other  boys  do  it,"  replied 
Ronald. 

"  Did  n't  you  ever  see  Oscar's  anchor  ?  "  inquired 
Otis. 

"  No,  I  did  n't  know  he  had  an  anchor,"  replied 
Miss  Lee. 

"  He  has  got  a  real  handsome  anchor  on  his  arm, 
pricked  in  with  Indian  ink,"  continued  Otis. 

"  lie  made  it  when  he  was  at  sea,  —  and  he  has 
got  a  star  like  mine  on  his  hand,"  said  Ronald. 

"  I  have  noticed  the  star,"  said  Miss  Lee ;  "  but 
what  is  the  use  of  your  marking  yourselves  in  that 
way  ?  What  do  you  do  it  for  ?  " 


46  A     PAGAN     CUSTOM. 

"  Why,  it  looks  handsome,"  replied  Ronald,  with 
some  hesitation. 

*  "  I  do  n't  think  so— those  black  marks  look  ugly, 
to  me,"  replied  Miss  Lee ;  "  besides,  you  never  can 
wash  them  out." 

"Why,  that's  the  beauty  of  it,  Aunt  Fanny," 
replied  Ronald,  with  one  of  his  roguish  looks. 
«  There  would  n't  be  any  fun  in  it  if  it  washed  out." 

"  Perhaps  you  will  think  differently,  some  time 
or  other,"  said  Miss  Lee. 

"But  what  hurt  does  it  do  ?"  inquired  Otis. 

"  I  do  n't  know  that  it  does  any  harm,"  replied 
Miss  Lee;  "but  it  always  seemed  to  me  like  a 
heathenish  practice.  Did  you  know  that  the  old 
pagans  \ised  to  mark  themselves  in  that  way,  in 
honor  of  their  idols  ?  " 

"What,  did  they  prick  Indian  ink  into  their 
hands,  as  we  do  ?  "  inquired  Ronald. 

"  Sometimes  they  pricked  the  marks  in,"  replied 
Miss  Lee, "  and  sometimes  they  burnt  and  cut  them 
into  the  flesh.  If  a  man  devoted  himself  to  Jupiter, 
he  marked  himself  with  a  thunderbolt,  on  the  palm 
of  his  hand,  or  his  wrist,  or  neck,  or  upon  some 
other  part  of  his  body.  If  he  chose  Mars  for  his 


GKOUND     OF     OBJECTIONS.  47 

god,  then  the  mark  was  a  helmet  or  spear.  Soldiers 
and  slaves  used  sometimes  to  be  marked  in  the 
same  way,  to  show  to  Avhat  commander,  or  to  what 
master,  they  belonged.  Some  tribes  of  savages,  at 
the  present  day,  are  very  fond  of  such  ornaments, 
and  tattoo  their  faces  all 
over,  by  pricking  dyes  into 
their  skins.  There  are  sev- 
eral allusions  to  this  cus- 
tom in  the  Bible,  and  the 
Jews  were  forbidden  to 
practise  it." 

"It's   wicked,  then,  to 
make  such  marks,  is  n't  it  ?  "  inquired  Otis. 

"  No,"  replied  Miss  Lee,  "  so  long  as  you  do  not 
make  them  in  honor  of  any  false  god,  nor  with  any 
bad  motive,  there  is  no  sin  in  the  act.  The  worst 
that  can  be  said  about  it  is,  that  it  is  a  foolish  cus- 
tom, and  a  relic  of  paganism  and  superstition." 

"  I  'm  going  to  see  if  I  can't  wash  mine  out,  before 
it  dries  in,"  said  Ronald,  and  he  hurried  off  to  the 
pump,  followed  by  Otis. 

For  a  few  minutes  the  boys  worked  as  hard  to 
rub  out  their  new  ornaments  as  they  had  labored,  a 


48  WHAT     OSCAR     SAID. 

little  while  before,  to  imprint  them  upon  their  hands. 
But  water,  soap,  and  even  sand,  were  all  in  vain. 
The  stars  shone  as  brightly  at  the  end  as  at  the 
beginning  of  the  effort.  While  thus  engaged,  Oscar 
came  along,  and,  on  seeing  what  the  boys  were 
about,  indulged  in  a  hearty  laugh. 

"  Why,  you  little  fools ! "  he  exclaimed,  "  what 
are  you  trying  to  wash  the  ink  out  for  ?  " 

"Because  we  don't  want  it  in,"  replied  Ronald. 

"  What  did  you  prick  it  in  for,  then  ?  "  continued 
Oscar. 

"  Because  we  did  n't  know  any  better,  then,"  said 
Ronald;  "but  Aunt  Fanny  says  the  heathen  prick 
ink  into  their  hands,  and  I  don't  want  to  be  a 
heathen." 

"Well,  if  that  isn't  a  great  idea!"  exclaimed 
Oscar,  relapsing  into  another  hearty  laugh.  "I 
suppose  you  think  I  'in  a  heathen,  then,  do  n't  you  ?  " 
he  continued.  "  Well,  if  I  'm  a  heathen,  I  guess 
there  are  a  good  many  others  around  full  as  bad. 
I  never  heard  any  body  say  there  was  any  harm  in 
pricking  a  little  Indian  ink  into  your  hand,  and  I 
do  n't  believe  there  is,  if  Aunt  Fanny  does  say  so." 

"  She  did  n't  say  there  was  any  harm  in  it,"  re- 


A    QUESTIONABLE     STAB.  49 

plied  Ronald.  "  She  said  she  didn't  like  it,  because 
it  was  doing  as  the  heathen  did." 

"  So  we  '  do  as  the  heathen  do '  when  we  eat,  but 
I  sha  n't  give  up  eating  on  that  account,"  observed 
Oscar. 

"  Xor  I,  either,"  said  Otis,  who  was  very  willing 
to  be  re-converted  to  the  tattooing  process.  "  I 
mean  to  finish  my  star  —  what's  the  use  of  trying 
to  wash  it  out  ?  " 

"  Star !  do  you  call  that  thing  a  star  ?  "  inquired 
Oscar,  with  a  look  of  contempt. 

"  But  I  have  n't  finished  it,"  meekly  interposed 
Otis. 

"  No,  I  should  n't  think  you  had,"  added  Oscar. 
"It  looks  more  like  a  spider  than  a  star.  If  I 
could  n't  make  a  better  star  than  that  with  my  eyes 
shut,  I  'd  put  my  head  under  a  bushel  basket." 

With  this  self-sufficient  remark,  Oscar  walked  off, 
and  Ronald  and  Otis,  having  come  to  the  conclusion 
that  their  stars  were  beyond  the  reach  of  soap  and 
sand,  also  left  the  room.  It  happened  that  Mrs. 
Page  and  Miss  Lee  were  sitting  in  an  adjoining 
room,  and  overheard  the  conversation  just  related. 

One  afternoon,  some  time  after  this  occurrence, 


50  SAMHAPLEY. 

as  Oscar  was  sitting  with  his  Aunt  Fanny,  in  her 
chamber,  studying  his  lessons,  a  boy  of  about  his 
age  came  along,  with  a  gun  on  his  shoulder,  and 
seeing  Oscar  at  the  open  window,  called  him,  in  a 
low  voice  —  „ 

"  Come,  Oscar ;  want  to  go  over  to  Prescott's  ?  " 
"  No,  I  can 't  go ;  I  've  got  my  lessons  to  learn," 
replied  Oscar. 

«  How  long  before  you  '11  be  done  ?  "  inquired  the 
boy,  whose  name  was  Samuel  Hapley,  and  who 
lived  near  by. 

"  It  will  take  me  nearly  all  the  afternoon,  I  sup- 
pose," replied  Oscar. 

Then  I'm  off,"  said  the  boy,  resuming  his  course. 
Oscar  watched  him  somewhat  wishfully  for  a 
minute  or  two,  as  he  directed  his  course  through 
the  fields,  and  then  turned  to  his  books.  Sam  Hap- 
ley was  the  only  boy  near  his  own  age  in  that  part 
of  the  town ;  and  it  also  happened  that  he  was  the 
only  boy  in  Highburghe  had  been  cautioned  against. 
His  aunts  and  Marcus  knew  that  he  could  not  well 
avoid  forming  an  acquaintance  with  Sam,  and  they 
did  not  forbid  this;  but  they  earnestly  advised 
Oscar  to  associate  with  him  as  little  as  possible, 


THE    MORTGAGE.  51 

and  to  beware  of  his  evil  influence.  Sam's  father 
was  intemperate.  His  mother  was  sickly,  discour- 
aged and  disconsolate.  The  children,  of  whom  Sam 
was  the  oldest,  were  neglected,  their  father  being 
cross  and  severe  with  all  of  them  except.the  young- 
est, and  their  mother  always  attempting  to  shield 
them  from  his  displeasure,  even  when  they  had 
done  wrong.  The  farm  wore  an  air  of  thriftlessness, 
and,  to  crown  their  misfortunes,  it  was  covered 
with  mortgages.* 

"  You  got  rid  of  him  pretty  easily,  that  time," 
said  Miss  Lee,  as  Sam  passed  along. 

"  I  know  it ;  but  I  should  n't  have  gone  if  I  had 
got  my  lessons,"  replied  Oscar. 

"  It  makes  me  real  sad  to  see  how  that  boy  has 
changed,  within  ten  years,"  continued  Miss  Lee. 

*A  mortgage  is  a  pledge  of  property  by  a  debtor  to  a  creditor 
to  secure  a  debt.  For  instance,  a  man  who  owns  a  farm  wishes 
to  borrow  a  thousand  dollars,  and  to  secure  the  lender  from  loss, 
he  pledges  his  farm  to  him.  The  farm  is  then  said  to  be  mort- 
gaged. The  borrower  cannot  dispose  of  it,  and  the  lender  is,  in 
effect,  its  real  owner,  to  the  amount  of  his  claim,  until  that  claim 
is  paid.  If  it  should  not  be  paid  when  due,  the  lender,  or  mort- 
gagee, as  he  is  called,  may  sell  the  farm,  after  a  certain  time,  and 
thus  get  his  money  back.  When  an  intemperate  man  mortgages 
his  property,  there  is  little  hope  that  he  will  ever  redeem  it. 


52  A     BOY'S     INFLUENCE. 

"  He  was  once  a  pretty,  modest,  gentle  boy,  and 
used  to  be  quite  a  favorite  of  mine.  Now,  the 
coarse  features  of  vice  are  settling  upon  his  face, 
and  he  is  said  to  be  a  very  bad  boy." 

"  He  swears  like  everything,"  remarked  Oscar. 

"  So  I  have  heard,"  added  Aunt  Fanny. 

"Henry  swears  some,  too,"  continued  Oscar, 
alluding  to  a  brother  of  Sam,  about  thirteen  years 
old. 

"Ah,  I  am  sorry  to  hear  that,"  said  his  aunt. 
"But  it  isn't  very  strange,  after  all,  with  such  an 
example  before  him.  A  boy  of  Sam's  age  exerts  a 
great  influence  on  his  young  brothers  and  sisters. 
The  little  children  look  up  to  the  large  ones  with 
a  sort  of  fear  and  respect,  and  copy  their  ways,  and 
imitate  their  example,  right  or  wrong.  Did  you 
ever  think  how  much  influence  of  this  kind  you 
may  be  exerting  ?  " 

"  I  do  n't  know  that  I  ever  thought  much  about 
it,"  replied  Oscar. 

"Here  are  three  children  in  the  family,"  continued 
his  aunt,  "  younger  than  you.  The  fact  that  you 
are  older  and  have  seen  more  of  the  world  than 
they,  while  you  are  still  a  boy,  gives  you  quite  an 


AN    ILLUSTRATION.  53 

influence  over  their  minds.  You  can  increase  or 
diminish  that  influence,  according  to  the  manner  in 
which  you  treat  them;  but  you  can't  wholly  divest 
yourself  of  it.  You  must  exert  an  influence  over 
them,  good  or  ill,  in  spite  of  yourself,  and  when 
you  are  not  thinking  of  it.  I  saw  an  illustration 
of  this,  a  few  days  ago.  Otis  and  Ronald  noticed 
that  you  had  a  star  pricked  into  your  hand,  and 
what  did  they  do  but  prick  stars  into  theirs,  as  soon 
as  they  could  get  the  materials !  " 

"Oh  yes,  I  noticed  that,"  said  Oscar,  laugh- 
ing. 

"  That  was  a  trifling  thing,"  resumed  Aunt  Fanny 
but  it  illustrates  a  great  truth.  It  shows  how  you 
are  watched,  and  copied,  and  it  ought  to  put  you 
on  your  guard.  You  can  use  this  influence  so  as 
to  assist  us  in  training  the  children  to  good  habits, 
or,  if  you  choose,  you  can  do  just  the  opposite. 
You  see  there  is  quite  a  responsibility  resting  upon 
you.  If  they  see  that  you  are  studious,  industrious 
and  faithful,  they  will  feel  an  influence  drawing 
them  in  the  same  direction ;  but  if  you  exhibit  any 
bad  trait,  it  would  not  be  strange  if  they  should 

try  to  pattern  after  it." 
5* 


54  A    GOOD     PURPOSE. 

"  I  never  thought  much  about  that  before,  but  I 
mean  to  look  out  for  it  now,"  sard  Oscar. 

Nothing  was  said  to  Oscar  in  relation  to  his  un- 
guarded remarks  to  the  boys  about  tattooing,  and 
he  never  knew  that  he  was  overheard  by  his  aunt. 
That  incident,  however,  gave  the  turn  to  the  con- 
versation on  this  occasion. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

UP    THE    MOUNTAIN. 

/""VSCAR,  from  the  day  of  his  arrival  in  Highburg, 
had  expressed  a  desire  to  ascend  some  one  of 
the  lofty  mountain  peaks  in  the  neighborhood ;  and 
Marcus  had  made  a  sort  of  half  promise  to  get  up 
a  party,  some  fine  autumn  day,  to  visit  the  Camel's 
Hump,  the  highest  eminence  in  that  part  of  the 
State.  On  reflection,  however,  it  was  thought  best 
to  abandon  this  undertaking,  on  account  of  the 
distance  of  the  mountain  from  Highburg,  the  diffi- 
culty of  making  the  ascent,  and  the  time  that 
would  be  required  for  the  expedition.  But  to  com- 
pensate Oscar  and  the  other  young  folks  for  the 
disappointment,  it  was  determined,  one  Saturday 
afternoon,  to  make  an  excursion  to  a  notable  emi- 
nence called  "  Prescott's  Peak,"  situated  about  two 
miles  from  Mrs.  Page's. 


56  KOVER. 

The  party  consisted  of  Marcus,  Oscar,  Kate, 
Ronald,  Otis,  and  Rover,  the  dog.  They  struck  an 
air-line  towards  the  mountain,  through  fields,  mead- 
ows and  woods,  Rover  strolling  on  ahead  of  the 
party,  with  an  air  of  entire  satisfaction.* 

"I'll  bet  Rover  knows  where  we  are  going  — 
do  n't  you  believe  he  does,  Marcus  ?  "  inquired  Os- 
car. 

"I  don't  know,  I  almost  think  sometimes  that 
he  knows  what  we  say,"  replied  Marcus. 

"  He  knows  a  good  deal  that  we  say,  any  way," 
remarked  Otis.  "  You  give  him  a  bucket,  and  tell 
him  to  carry  it  out  to  the  barn,  and  he'll  do  it  just 
as  well  as  anybody;  and  he'll  lie  down,  or  give 
you  his  paw,  or  speak,  if  you  tell  him  to." 

"  One  day,  about  a  year  ago,"  said  Marcus,  "  when 
Aunt  Fanny  was  packing  her  trunk,  to  go  to  Grand- 
mother's, she  told  Rover  she  had  got  to  leave  him, 
and  asked  him  if  he  did  n't  want  to  go,  too ;  and 
upon  that  he  jumped  right  into  her  trunk,  —  as 
much  as  to  say,  *  Yes,  I  want  to  go,  —  pack  me  in ! J 
When  Aunt  Fanny  came  back  from  her  journey,  it 
seemed  as  if  he  would  eat  her  up,  he  was  so  glad 
to  see  her.  He  never  forgets  anybody  that  he  has 


KNOWING    DOGS.  57 

once  known.  Last  summer,  I  took  him  over  to 
Montpelier  with  me,  where  he  used  to  live;  and 
although  he  had  n't  been  there  for  over  two  years,  he 
remembered  all  his  old  friends,  and  went  around 
and  scratched  at  all  the  doors  of  the  houses  he 
used  to  visit  when  he  lived  there." 

"  And  he 's  the  neatest  dog  that  I  ever  heard  of, 
— he  wont  come  into  the  house  with  dirty  paws," 
added  Kate. 

"No,"  continued  Marcus,  "and  once  when  we 
had  our  floors  newly  painted,  and  boards  were  laid 
to  step  upon,  Rover  understood  the  arrangement 
as  well  as  we  did,  and  was  careful  to  walk  upon 
the  boards  until  the  paint  was  dry." 

"  We  had  a  strange  dog  come  to  our  house  last 
winter,  that  knew  something,"  said  Otis.  "He 
knocked  at  the  door,  just  as  well  as  a  man  could 
have  done  it.  Mother  went  to  see  who  had  come, 
and  she  found  nothing  but  a  dog.  As  soon  as  he 
saw  her,  he  began  to  cry  like  a  baby,  he  was  so  cold 
and  hungry.  So  she  gave  him  some  dinner,  and 
let  him  warm  himself,  and  then  he  went  off,  and 
we  never  saw  him  again.  But  he  knocked  at  the 


58  ATOUGHSTORY. 

door,  —  tap,  tap,  tap,  —  so  you  could  n't  have  told 
him  from  a  man." 

"  I  could  tell  a  story  that  would  beat  that,"  said 
Oscar.  "  I  knew  a  dog  in  Boston  that  would  open 
any  door  that  was  fastened  by  a  latch,  without 
stopping  to  knock ;  and  he  'd  shut  it,  too,  if  you 
told  him  to." 

"I  could  tell  a  story  that  would  beat  all  of 
yours,"  said  Ronald.  "  It 's  about  a  dog  that  un- 
locks doors ;  and  if  he  can't  find  the  key,  he  will 
hunt  up  a  piece  of  wire,  and  pick  the  lock  !  " 

"  Why,  Ronald  Page !  IIOAV  dare  you  tell  such  a 
lie  ?  "  exclaimed  Kate,  after  the  laugh  that  followed 
this  sally  had  subsided. 

"It  wasn't  a  lie,"  replied  Ronald.  «I  didn't 
say  a  dog  ever  did  that  —  I  said  I  could  tell  a 
story  about  a  dog  that  did  it,  and  so  I  can." 

"  It 's  a  lie,  for  all  that ;  I  '11  leave  it  to  Marcus  if 
it  is  n't,"  rejoined  Kate. 

"Not  exactly  a  lie,  although  it  looks  something 
like  it,"  observed  Marcus.  "  Ronald  could  not  have 
intended  to  deceive  anybody,  when  he  told  such  a 
tough  story  as  that,  and  therefore  it  was  not  a 
falsehood.  But "  — 


THE     BLACK     SNAKE.  59 

"  A  snake !  a  snake ! "  suddenly  broke  in  Ronald, 
who  was  a  little  in  advance  of  the  others. 

"  O,  kill  it !  do  kill  it ! "  cried  Kate,  running  back 
a  few  steps  from  the  scene  of  danger. 

"No,  I  shan't  —  you  said  I  lied,  and  now  you 
want  me  to  commit  murder,  do  you?"  retorted 
Ronald. 

"  Pooh !  it 's  nothing  but  the  cast-off  skin  of  a 

snake,"  said  Otis,  lifting  it  upon  a  stick,  and  tossing 

it  toward  Kate,  who  dexterously  dodged  the  missile. 

"  That  was  the  skin  of  a  black  snake,  was  n't 

it  ?  "  inquired  Oscar. 

"Yes,"  replied  Ronald,  "and  a  pretty  large 
one,  too." 

"  I  saw  a  black  snake 
all  of  six  feet  long, 
that  summer  I  was 
down  to  Brookdalc," 

said    Oscar.       "  Jerry 
.  J 
and  I  were  on  a  high 

rock,  and  saw  the  snake 
in  the  field  below  us.  He  was  coiled  up,  arid  was 
watching  a  squirrel  that  Avas  a  little  way  off.  We 
got  some  stones,  and  pelted  him,  but  I  believe  we 


60  T  H  E     P  O  ST  I>  . 

didn't  hit  him,  for  we  couldn't  find  anything  of 
him." 

"  I  killed  a  large  black  snake,  all  alone,  down  in 
our  meadow,  not  more  than  a  month  ago,"  said 
Ronald. 

"  Is  that  one  of  your  yarns,  or  do  you  expect  us 
to  believe  it  ?  "  inquired  Oscar. 

"  It 's  the  truth,  sir,  I  '11  leave  it  to  Marcus,  if  it 
is  n't,"  replied  Ronald. 

"Hold  on  a  minute,"  said  Marcus,  stopping  by 
the  side  of  a  small,  shallow  pond  they  were  pass- 
ing; and,  taking  a  stick,  he  began  to  stir  up  its 
muddy  bottom. 

"  "What  in  the  world  is  he  dabbling  in  that  dirty 
water  for  ?  "  inquired  Kate. 

"  I  guess  he  is  hunting  for  frogs'  eggs,"  said  Ro- 
nald ;  "  or,  perhaps  he  's  going  to  make  some  polly- 
wog  soup." 

"Do  you  see,  he  is  going  to  set  the  pond  afire  ! " 
cried  Kate,  as  Marcus  drew  some  friction  matches 
from  his  pocket. 

Marcus  continued  his  operations,  without  noticing 
the  comments  of  his  companions,  and  in  a  little 
while,  he  actually  produced  a  faint  yellow  flame 


CURIOUS     PHENOMENON.  61 

upon  the  surface  of  the  water,  to  the  astonishment 
of  the  company.  He  then  explained  to  them  that 
this  was  an  experiment  which  he  had  learned  while 
studying  chemistry  at  the  academy.  When  vege- 
table matter  decays  under  water,  a  gas  called  light 
carburetted  hydrogen  is  formed,  which  may  be 
burned.  On  stirring  up  the  bottom,  the  gas  es- 
capes, and  rises  to  the  top  in  bubbles,  and  may  be 
collected  in  jars,  or  set  on  fire  upon  the  surface  of 
the  water.  This  gas,  he  said,  was  the  terrible  "  fire- 
damp," which  caused  such  tremendous  explosions 
in  coal  mines,  before  Sir  Humphrey  Davy  invented 
his  safety  lamp,  to  protect  the  miners  from  these 
disasters.  He  told  them,  also,  that  he  had  seen  it 
stated  in  a  newspaper  that  on  one  of  our  Western 
rivers,  when  the  water  was  very  low,  the  steam- 
boats had  to  shut  down  their  furnace  doors  for  sev- 
eral miles,  and  allow  no  torches  to  be  lighted  at 
night,  for  fear  of  "  setting  the  river  on  fire ! "  Fre- 
quently boats  that  did  not  use  these  precautions 
at  this  particular  place,  have  found  themselves  en- 
gulfed in  flames,  greatly  to  the  alarm  of  the  pas- 
sengers, and  sometimes  setting  the  steamers  on 
fire.  In  some  instances,  the  passengers  have  come 


62  THE     MOUNTAIN. 

very  near  leaping  overboard,  before  the  officers 
could  convince  them  that  there  was  no  danger ;  an 
act  that  would  be  almost  literally  "jumping  from 
the  frying-pan  into  the  fire." 

The  party  now  resumed  their  course,  and  after 
skirting  a  swamp,  and  threading  their  way  thro'  a 
tangled  growth  of  young  birches  and  pines,  and 
breaking  a  path  through  the  sharp,  bristling  stubble 
of  a  rye  field,  they  reached  the  foot  of  the  mountain. 
The  eminence  was  clothed  with  that  dress  of  unfad- 
ing green  from  which  this  range  takes  its  name,* 
being  covered  with  spruce,  fir,  hemlock,  and  other 
evergreens,  to  the  summit.  They  began  the  ascent 
by  a  narrow,  steep  and  winding  path,  which,  how- 
ever, had  the  appearance  of  being  much  used. 

"  I  should  think  a  good  many  people  came  up 
here,  by  the  looks,"  remarked  Oscar. 

"  Not  many,  except  Gooden's  folks,"  replied  Mar- 
cus. 

*  The  range  was  named  Verd  Mont  by  the  early  French  set- 
tlers, which  means  in  English,  Green  Mountain.  When  the 
people  declared  themselves  a  free  and  independent  State,  in 
1777,  they  adopted  the  French  name  as  that  of  their  Common- 
wealth, contracting  it  by  the  omission  of  the  d. 


GOODEN'S    HISTORY.  63 

"  Who  is  Gooden  ?  "  inquired  Oscar. 

"He  is  a  strange  fellow  who  lives  up  on  the 
mountain,"  replied  Marcus.  "We  shall  come  to 
his  cabin  pretty  soon,  and  perhaps  you  will  have  a 
chance  to  see  him." 

"  But  what  does  he  live  up  here  for,  away  from 
everybody  ?  —  is  he  cracked  ?  "  inquired  Oscar. 

"  He  lives  here  because  he  prefers  to  keep  out  of 
the  way  of  people,  I  suppose,"  replied  Marcus. 

"  They  say  he  used  to  steal,  and  got  caught  in  a 
trap,  once,"  said  Kate. 

"  A  regular  steal  trap,  was  n't  it  ?  "  inquired 
Ronald. 

"  That  is  the  common  report,"  added  Marcus,  not 
noticing  Ronald's  pun,  "  and  I  suppose  it  is  true. 
The  story  is,  that  where  he  used  to  live,  his  neigh- 
bors found  their  grain  going  off  faster  than  they 
thought  it  ought  to,  and  one  of  them  set  a  large 
bear  trap,  with  steel  springs  and  sharp  teeth,  to 
catch  the  thief.  One  morning  soon  after,  he  went 
out  to  the  barn,  and  found  Gooden  fast  in  the  trap. 
It  caught  him  around  the  ankle,  and  they  say  he 
was  laid  up  for  several  months  with  a  sore  leg. 
He  is  a  little  lame,  now,  from  the  effects  of  it.  As 


64  GOODEN'S   FAMILY. 

soon  as  he  could  get  away,  he  came  and  settled  in 
this  out-of-the-way  place,  and  lives  as  much  like  a 
hermit  as  he  can,  with  his  family." 

"  O,  has  he  got  a  family  ?  "  inquired  Oscar. 

"  Yes,  a  wife  and  four  children,"  replied  Marcus. 

"How  does  he  support  himself,  now, — by  steal- 
ing?" inquired  Oscar. 

"  No,"  replied  Marcus,  "  nobody  suspects  him  of 
dishonesty,  now  —  he  is  probably  cured  of  that. 
He  owns  a  cow,  and  raises  corn  and  potatoes 
enough  to  support  his  family.  He  kills  some  game, 
which  supplies  him  with  meat.  They  get  a  little 
money  by  making  maple  sugar,  and  collecting 
spruce  gum.  But  after  all  they  are  quite  poor,  and 
people  often  give  them  clothing,  and  other  neces- 
sary articles.  The  children  are  growing  up  in 
ignorance,  too,  —  they  never  go  to  school  or  church. 
They  will  stand  a  rather  poor  chance  in  the  world, 
brought  up  in  that  way." 

After  toiling  up  the  zigzag  path  awhile  longer, 
the  party  came  to  an  open,  level  space,  and  found 
themselves  within  a  few  rods  of  Gooden's  cabin,  a 
small,  rude  structure,  built  of  rough  logs,  with  a 
large  chimney  at  one  end,  on  the  outside.  Several 


THE     CABIN. 


65 


children  were  playing  around  the  house,  and  the 
father  himself  was  just  coming  in  from  a  hunting 
excursion  up  the  mountain,  with  his  gun  on  his 


shoulder,  and  his  dog  by  his  side.  Seeing  the 
party  approaching,  Mr.  Gooden  went  into  the  house 
and  shut  the  door.  Marcus  had  often  visited  the 
family,  on  errands  of  kindness,  but  knowing  the 
morose  and  suspicious  disposition  of  the  father,  and 
his  antipathy  to  company,  he  concluded  not  to  stop 
at  the  cabin.  Exchanging  a  few  words  with  Jake 

and  Sally,  the  two  oldest  children,  who  stood  star- 
6* 


66  SPRUCE    GUM. 

ing  at  the  strangers,  Marcus  passed  on,  with  his 
party,  through  a  path  still  more  intricate  and  diffi- 
cult. 

"You  said  something  about  spruce  gum  —  what 
do  they  do  with  it  ?  "  inquired  Oscar. 

"  They  sell  it,"  replied  Marcus.  "  A  man  comes 
round  here  every  summer,  who  makes  it  his  busi- 
ness to  collect  spruce  gum.  He  buys  all  the  gum 
that  is  offered  him,  and  he  hires  boys  to  gather  it 
for  him,  paying  them  so  much  a  pound.  This  gum 
is  cleaned,  and  sent  to  the  cities,  where  it  brings  a 
good  price." 

"  Well,  if  everybody  was  like  me,  the  spruce  gum 
trade  wouldn't  be  worth  much,"  said  Kate.  "I 
do  n't  see  why  anybody  wants  to  chew  the  nasty 
stuff,  especially  a  young  lady.  How  it  looks,  to  see 
your  jaws  going  the  whole  time !  There  are  some 
girls  in  the  academy  that  always  have  their  mouths 
full  of  gum.  I  think  it 's  real  disgusting." 

"  Chewing  gum  is  n't  quite  so  bad  as  chewing 
tobacco,  but  it  is  a  foolish  and  disgusting  habit,  as 
you  say,"  observed  Marcus. 

The  party  continued  their  ascent  up  the  steep 
and  slippery  side  of  the  mountain,  occasionally 


THE     TOP    OP    THE    PEAK.  67 

halting  a  few  minutes  to  take  breath.  Some  of 
them  began  to  question  whether  there  was  any  top 
to  it,  as  each  turn  of  the  zigzag  path,  which  prom- 
ised to  land  them  at  the  summit,  only  revealed  as 
they  advanced  a  still  higher  point  beyond.  But 
at  length  the  top,  the  very  "tip-top,"  as  the  boys 
called  it,  was  reached.  Instead  of  a  sharp,  sky- 
scraping  ridge,  they  found  the  summit  to  be  a  broad 
and  nearly  level  plain,  composed  mostly  of  solid 
rock,  and  almost  bare  of  vegetation.  But  what  a 
view  did  it  present!  A  dozen  villages  scattered 
among  the  valleys,  with  their  nestling  houses  and 
white  spires ;  the  rich  meadows  of  the  Winooski 
and  its  tributaries,  with  their  thrifty  farms ;  the  cat- 
tle and  sheep  "upon  a  thousand  hills;"  the  dark 
and  extensive  patches  of  forest,  in  which  the  wood- 
man's axe  has  never  yet  resounded;  the  chain  of 
mountain  sentinels,  drawn  up  in  lines,  conspicuous 
among  which  were  the  Camel's  Hump,  and  the  dis- 
tant Mansfield  Mountain,  with  its  "  Nose,"  "  Lips  " 
and  "  Chin ; "  the  broad  and  peaceful  expanse  of 
Lake  Champlain,  with  a  faint  outline  of  the  Adir- 
ondack Mountains  looming  up  beyond ;  —  such  is 
a  very  imperfect  sketch  of  the  scene  that  for  a 


68  THE     MONUMENT. 

Ions:  time   engrossed  the  attention  of  the  whole 

o  o 

party. 

After  the  party  had  rested  themselves,  and  gazed 
at  the  extensive  prospect  as  long  as  they  wished, 
Oscar  proposed  to  erect  a  monument  on  the  sum- 
mit that  would  be  visible  from  their  house,  and 
would  commemorate  their  ascent  of  the  mountain. 
The  proposal  was  readily  agreed  to  by  all,  and  they 
immediately  set  about  gathering  the  necessary  mate- 
rials. All  the  movable  stones  on  the  summit  were 
soon  collected  in  a  heap,  but  Marcus  expressed  a 
doubt  whether  there  were  enough  to  form  a  pile 
that  would  be 'visible  below. 

"  If  we  only  had  an  axe,"  said  Oscar,  "  we  coxild 
cut  down  a  tree,  and  strip  off  all  the  branches  but 
a  few  at  the  top ;  and  then  we  could  set  the  tree 
on  the  summit,  and  pile  the  stones  about  it  to  keep 
it  in  place." 

"  Has  anybody  got  any  string  about  him  ? " 
inquired  Otis. 

There  was  a  general  fumbling  of  pockets,  and 
among  a  score  of  miscellaneous  articles  produced 
was  a  piece  of  old  fishing-line  belonging  to  Ronald. 

"  That 's  just  the  thing,"  said  Otis.     "  Now  we 


T  II  E     D  E  S  C  E  N  T  .  69 

will  find  a  tree  that  has  blown  clown,  and  tie  a  lot 
of  new  branches  to  the  top  of  it,  and  stick  it  up,  as 
Oscar  said." 

This  proposal  was  adopted.  A  tall,  straight  sap- 
ling was  soon  found,  that  had  fallen  before  the 
furious  winter  blasts  that  play  among  the  Peak. 
Its  branches,  now  partially  decayed,  were  broken 
off,  and  the  trunk  made  as  clean  as  possible,  with 
the  exception  of  the  top.  A  quantity  of  evergreen 
boughs  were  then  procured,  and  lashed  to  the  top 
of  the  sapling  by  the  fishing-line.  The  signal 
pole,  with  its  heavy  tuft,  was  now  raised  to  its 
place  by  the  united  strength  of  the  party,  and  the 
stones  piled  compactly  around  its  bottom,  until 
it  seemed  as  firm  as  though  rooted  in  the  earth. 
Three  cheers  were  given  for  the  monument,  and 
then,  after  a  short  resting-spell,  the  party  began  to 
descend. 

"With  merry  shouts  and  laughter  they  were  bound- 
ing, sliding  and  tumbling  down  the  steep  side  of 
the  mountain,  the  boys  sometimes  far  outstripping 
Kate  and  Marcus,  and  then  pausing  awhile,  to  see 
how  their  more  moderate  companions  got  along. 
In  this  way  they  had  proceeded  nearly  a  quarter 


70  A    BAD     SPIRIT. 

of  a  mile  from  the  summit,  when  Kate  suddenly 
brought  them  to  a  stand  by  exclaiming  — 

"  I  declare !  if  I  have  n't  left  my  veil  on  the  top 
of  the  mountain !  I  took  it  off  when  we  were 
looking  at  the  scenery,  because  it  was  in  my  way, 
and  I  forgot  to  put  it  on  again." 

«  That 's  just  like  you,"  said  her  brother ;  "  you 
are  always  forgetting  something." 

"  Never  mind,  I  '11  run  back  and  get  it  —  it  wont 
take  but  a  few  minutes,"  said  Oscar. 

"No,  let  me  go  —  I'm  more  used  to  it  than 
Oscar  is,"  exclaimed  Ronald. 

"I'd  let  her  go  herself — it  would  make  her 
more  careful  next  time,"  said  Otis,  in  a  low  tone, 
which  he  did  not  intend  Marcus  should  hear. 

"  Ronald  is  the  nimblest,  and  he  has  been  up  the 
mountain  before ;  so  I  think  he  had  better  go  and 
get  the  veil,  and  we  will  wait  for  him  till  he  gets 
back,"  said  Marcus. 

Ronald  accordingly  scrambled  up  the  hill  again, 
while  the  others  seated  themselves  on  the  dry 
leaves  benenth  a  noble  pine. 

"I  do  n't  see  what  girls  want  to  wear  veils  for,"  said 
Otis,  somewhat  petulantly,  alter  they  were  seated. 


WEARING    VEILS.  71 

"  It  is  n't  necessary  for  you  to  know  why  they 
wear  them,  Master  Otis,"  replied  Kate,  quite  coolly. 

"  I  have  no  objection  to  girls'  wearing  veils,  if 
they  choose  to,  but  I  do  n't  like  to  see  boys  wear 
such  things,"  said  Marcus. 

"Why,  did  you  ever  see  boys  wear  veils?" 
inquired  Otis,  with  surprise. 

"I  have  seen  boys  that  I  thought  acted  as  if 
they  wore  veils  over  their  eyes,"  replied  Marcus. 

"How  did  they  act?"  inquired  Otis,  after  a 
moment's  pause. 

"They  acted  as  if  they  could  not  see  things 
that  were  as  plain  as  a  pike-staff  to  other  people," 
replied  Marcus. 

Otis  seemed  to  be  trying  to  interpret  to  himself 
this  enigmatical  language,  but  did  not  appear 
inclined  to  ask  any  more  questions. 

"  For  instance,"  added  Marcus,  after  a  brief  pause, 
"  when  you  see  a  boy  rude  or  unkind  towards  his 
sister,  when  there  is  no  provocation,  you  may  con- 
clude that  he  has  a  veil  or  something  else  over  his  j 
eyes ;  for  if  he  could  see  plainly  how  such  conduct 
looks  to  other  people's  eyes,  he  would  not  indulge 
in  it." 


72  ANOTHER    MISHAP. 

Otis  apparently  understood  the  point  of  the 
remark,  and  felt  it,  too ;  but  he  made  no  reply.  In 
a  few  minutes  a  merry  shout  announced  the  ap- 
proach of  Ronald,  and  he  soon  appeared,  with  the 
lost  veil  fastened  to  his  straw  hat.  He  claimed  the 
privilege  of  wearing  it  home,  which  Kate  readily 
granted  ;  but  before  the  party  came  in  sight  of  the 
log  cabin,  he  concluded  to  surrender  it  to  its 
owner. 

Going  down  the  mountain  proved  almost  as  dif- 
ficult and  exciting  as  climbing  up,  and  many  a  slip 
and  tumble  happened  to  one  and  another,  on  the 
way.  Sometimes  a  low  branch  across  the  path, 
bent  from  its  place  and  then  let  loose  by  one,  would 
bring  up  the  boy  behind  with  a  whack  that  made 
him  see  stars.  By  one  of  these  flying  limbs  Otis 
had  his  cap  suddenly  removed  from  his  head,  and 
whirled  over  a  precipice,  lodging  in  the  top  of  a  tall 
tree  below.  The  disaster  was  followed  by  a  pro- 
longed and  hearty  shout  from  those  who  witnessed 
it,  and  the  others  hastened  to  the  spot,  to  see  what 
the  matter  was. 

"  I  '11  get  it  for  you,  Oty  —  I  can  climb  that  tree 


THE     LOST     CAP.  73 

easy  enough,"  exclaimed  Ronald,  as  soon  as  he 
comprehended  the  extent  of  the  mishap. 

"  No,"  said  Marcus,  with  assumed  gravity,  "  let 
him  get  his  cap  himself —  it  will  make  him  more 
careful  next  time." 

"  I  do  n't  see  what  boys  wear  caps  for ;  they  are 
always  losing  them,"  remarked  Kate,  the  fun  in  her 
eyes  but  half  concealed. 

"  It  was  n't  my  fault  —  I  could  n't  help  it,"  replied 
Otis,  with  the  utmost  seriousness.  "Ronald  let 
the  branch  fly  right  into  my  face,  and  it  took  my 
cap  off  before  I  knew  it  was  coming." 

"  Well,  if  Ronald  is  to  blame,  I  think  we  shall 
have  to  send  him  after  the  cap,"  said  Marcus. 

They  made  their  way,  with  some  difficulty,  to 
the  spot  where  the  tree  stood.  Ronald,  being  a 
more  expert  climber  than  any  of  the  others,  was 
entrusted  with  the  job,  and  ascended  the  tree 
almost  with  the  agility  of  a  squirrel.  He  took  with 
him  a  pole,  and  with  its  aid  the  cap  was  soon  dis- 
lodged, and  sent  to  the  ground  below. 

Xo  further  incidents  of  importance  befell  the 
party,  on  their  descent  of  the  mountain.  Mr. 

Gooden  did  not  manifest  himself  to  them,  as  they 

7 


74  ARRIVAL    HOME. 

passed  his  cabin ;  and  none  of  his  family  were  vis- 
ible. They  reached  their  home,  tired  and  hungry, 
in  season  to  get  a  view  of  the  signal  they  had 
raised,  after  the  sun  had  sunk  behind  Prescott's 
Peak ;  and  there  the  tall  sapling  stood,  for  a  long 
time  afterwards,  reminding  them  of  their  pleasant 
tramp  "  up  the  mountain." 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE    BLOTTED    WRITING-BOOK. 


were  loud  demonstrations  of  joy  among 
the  juvenile  members  of  the  household,  one 
morning,  when  Marcus  handed  a  letter  to  Kate,  for 
Mr.  Upton,  the  principal  of  the  academy,  and  in- 
formed them  that  it  contained  his  acceptance  of 
the  office  of  assistant  teacher  in  that  institution, 
for  the  winter  term.  The  appointment  had  been 
offered  him  several  weeks  previous,  and  had  been 
the  subject  of  much  consideration  on  the  part  of 
Marcus,  and  of  no  little  intei-est,  also,  among  the 
children,  who  were  all  anxious  to  have  Marcus  for  a 
teacher,  notwithstanding  he  repeatedly  forewarned 
them,  that  if  he  should  show  them  any  particular 
favor  as  their  instructor,  it  would  only  be  by  look- 
ing more  sharply  after  them  than  he  did  after  the 
other  scholars. 


76  REJOICINGS. 

"  Three  cheers  for  Master  Page ! "  shouted  Ro- 
nald, and  they  were  given,  with  as  much  power  as 
four  noisy  throats  could  command. 

"  You  know  me,  Marcus, — you  '11  excuse  me  from 
writing  compositions,  wont  you  ?  "  inquired  Kate, 
when  the  noise  had  subsided. 

"  You  know  me,  too,  Marcus,  —  you  wont  make 
me  speak  pieces,  will  you  ?  "  said  Otis. 

"  You  know  me,  Master  Page,  —  you  wont  make 
me  do  any  thing,  will  you  ?  "  added  Ronald,  cap- 
ping the  climax. 

"  Yes,  I  know  you,  you  young  rogue,  and  if  you 
do  n't  walk  straight  you'll  catch  it!"  said  Marcus, 
in  reply  to  the  last  speaker. 

Ronald  did  not  take  the  admonition  much  to 
heart  ;  but  concluded  his  demonstrations  of  delight 
by  throwing  his  cap  over  an  apple  tree,  turning  two 
somersets,  and  crowing  like  a  "rooster,"  whose 
clarion  notes  he  could  imitate  with  ludicrous  fidel- 
ity. Then,  leaping  upon  the  back  of  Otis,  who 
with  Kate  was  just  starting  for  school,  he  disap- 
peared; but  his  voice  was  uppermost  among  the 
joyous  shouts  and  laughter  that  came  across  the 
fields  long  after  their  departure. 


A    SUDDEN    CHAXGE.  77 

Kate  and  Otis  did  not  xisually  go  home  from 
school  at  noon,  but  carried  their  dinners  with  them, 
the  distance  being  too  great  to  walk.  Ronald, 
however,  generally  dined  at  home,  the  district 
school,  which  he  was  now  attending,  being  less 
than  a  mile  distant  from  Mrs.  Page's.  In  the  course 
of  the  forenoon,  before  the  hour  of  school  dismis- 
sion, as  Marcus  was  at  work  throwing  up  muck  from 
a  meadow,  he  was  surprised  to  see  Ronald  approach- 
ing, on  the  road  leading  to  the  house.  "  He  must 
be  sick,"  thought  Marcus,  as  he  noticed  how  slowly 
he  walked,  and  how  silent  and  dejected  he  ap- 
peared. "What  a  change  had  come  over  the  light- 
hearted  boy,  within  two  hours ! 

Ronald  appeared  to  hesitate  a  moment,  and  then 
turned  into  the  meadow,  towards  Marcus.  As  soon 
as  he  was  within  speaking  distance,  the  latter  in- 
quired what  the  matter  was.  Ronald  made  no 
reply  until  he  had  reached  the  place  where  Marcus 
stood,  and  then  he  exclaimed : — 

"I'm  not  going  to  that  school  any  more  —  I've 
been  licked  for  nothing,  and  I  wont  stand  it ! " 

"  And  how  came  you  home  at  this  time  of  day  ?  " 

inquired  Marcus. 

7* 


78  BLOTTED    WEITING-BOOK. 

"  I  ran  away  from  school,"  replied  Ronald. 

"  Indeed ! "  said  Marcus ;  "  and  will  you  please  to 
explain  why  ?  " 

"Mrs.  Benham  set  out  to  lick  me " 

"Begin  at  the  beginning,  and  tell  the  whole 
story,"  interrupted  Marcus.  "  What  did  she  pun- 
ish you  for  ?  " 

"Why,  you  see  she  was  real  cross  this  morning," 
said  Ronald ;  "  I  saw  it  as  soon  as  she  got  there, 
and  thought  there 'd  be  a  squall  before  night.  Well, 
I  was  studying  my  lesson,  and  she  came  along,  and 
wanted  to  look  at  my  writing-book.  So  I  handed 
it  to  her,  and  she  opened  it,  and  found  four  or  five 
great  blots  on  the  page  I  wrote  yesterday  afternoon. 
She  looked  real  mad,  and  asked  me  what  it  meant, 
and  I  told  her  I  did  n't  do  it,  and  did  n't  know  any- 
thing about  it.  Then  she  said  I  lied,  and  she'd 
whip  me  for  blotting  the  book,  and  for  lying,  too. 
So  she  made  me  go  out  to  the  platform,  and  began 
to  put  on  the  ratan  over  my  hands,  just  as  hard  as 
she  could.  See  that,"  continued  Ronald,  showing 
to  Marcus  several  red  stripes  on  the  palm  of  his 
hand.  "I  couldn't  stand  that,  so  I  got  the  stick 
away  from  her,  and  ran  off  as  fast  as  I  could.  I 


THE    ALTERCATION.  79 

did  n't  blot  the  book,  nor  tell  a  lie,  and  I  wont  be 
whipped  for  nothing  by  Mrs.  Benham,  I  know." 

"  Have  you  told  me  the  truth,  about  this  affair, 
and  nothing  but  the  truth  ?  "  inquired  Marcus,  fix- 
ing a  steady  gaze  upon  Ronald. 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  've  told  the  real  truth,  and  nothing 
else,"  replied  Ronald. 

"Is  it  the  whole  truth?"  inquired  Marcus.  "Have 
you  not  kept  something  back  ?  " 

"  Why,  I  pulled  the  teacher  over,  when  I  got  the 
stick  away, — I  believe  I  did  n't  tell  you  about  that," 
replied  Ronald,  in  a  lower  tone.  "  I  did  n't  mean 
to  do  it,  though.  She  was  on  the  edge  of  the  plat- 
form, and  I  was  standing  on  the  floor,  and  when  I 
caught  the  ratan  and  jerked  it  away,  she  fell  upon 
the  floor,  somehow,  and  then  I  ran  off." 

"  How  do  you  know  that  she  was  not  injured  by 
the  fall  ?  "  inquired  Marcus. 

"  O,  it  did  n't  hurt  her,  for  she  chased  me  out  to 
the  door,  and  shook  her  fist  at  me,  —  I  turned 
around  and  saw  her,"  replied  Ronald. 

""Well,  you  have  got  yourself  into  a  pretty 
scrape,"  said  Marcus,  "and  it's  my  opinion  you  have 
not  seen  the  worst  of  it  yet.  According  to  your 


80  A     SERIOUS     AFFAIR. 

own  story,  you  are  liable  to  be  arrested  for  assault 
and  battery,  and  what 's  to  be  done,  then  ?  " 

"  I  did  n't  assault  her,  nor  batter  her;  she  held  on 
to  the  stick,  and  I  just  pulled  her  over,  that  was 
all,"  replied  Ronald. 

"  You  resisted  your  teacher,  and  pulled  her  upon 
the  floor;  and  that  is  sufficient,  I  think,  to  consti- 
tute what  the  law  terms  assault  and  battery,"  said 
Marcus.  "  At  any  rate,  I  do  not  see  but  that  you 
will  have  to  go  back  and  apologize  to  her,  before 
the  school,  and  then  let  her  finish  the  flogging  she 
intended  to  give  you,  if  she  chooses.  I  think  that 
would  be  the  easiest  way  to  settle  the  difficulty. 
You  had  better  go  home  and  tell  mother  about  it, 
and  see  what  she  says." 

Ronald  turned  away  with  a  sadder  heart  than 
ever.  He  revolted  at  the  thought  of  a  public  apol- 
ogy and  submission,  and  secretly  determined  that 
he  would  not  yield  to  such  a  humiliation.  He  went 
home  and  told  his  story  to  Mrs.  Page,  who  seemed 
much  grieved  and  troubled  by  his  conduct.  She 
questioned  him  very  closely  about  the  blots  on  the 
writing-book,  from  which  all  the  trouble  sprang. 
but  he  protested  that  he  knew  nothing  about  them, 


THE     CASE    CONSIDERED.  81 

with  groat  apparent  sincerity.  Still,  she  remem- 
bered that  Ronald  was  much  addicted  to  lying, 
when  he  came  to  live  with  her;  and  though  the 
habit  had  been  broken  up,  by  patient  labor  and 
often  severe  discipline,  there  was  a  lurking  fear  that 
he  might  possibly  have  relapsed,  under  a  strong 
temptation. 

When  Marcus  came  in  to  dinner,  Ronald's  case 
was  freely  discussed,  and  the  conclusion  appeared 
to  be  unanimous  that  they  could  not  sustain  him 
in  the  course  he  had  taken,  even  if  he  were  inno- 
cent of  the  fault  for  Avhich  he  was  punished.  It 
was  argued  that  a  school  government  must,  of 
necessity,  be  a  sort  of  absolute  monarchy.  The 
teacher,  although  responsible  to  the  community^ 
and  more  immediately  to  the  committee,  if  it  be 
a  public  school,  is  not  accountable  to  his  pupils. 
Among  them  he  is  king,  and  resistance  to  his  au- 
thority is  treason.  He  may  sometimes  seem  un- 
reasonable in  his  requirements,  but  his  scholars  are 
not  the  best  judges  of  this.  He  may  even  some- 
times punish  the  innocent,  by  mistake ;  but  in  such 
a  case,  it  is  better  to  submit  to  a  little  temporary 
pain  and  mortification,  trusting  in  a  future  redress 


82  THE  TEACHER'S   STORY. 

or  reparation,  rather  than  to  defy  or  resist  his  au- 
thority in  the  presence  of  the  school,  thereby  shak- 
ing the  foundation  of  his  government.  So  reasoned 
Mi's.  Page,  Aunt  Fanny,  and  Marcus,  and  they  thus 
reached  the  conclusion  that  Ronald  was  guilty  of 
a  flagrant  offence  in  school,  and  was  liable  to  expul- 
sion, if  not  prosecution. 

In  the  afternoon,  just  before  it  was  time  to  dis- 
miss school,  Marcus  went  to  see  the  teacher,  taking 
Ronald  with  him,  who,  by  the  way,  was  quite  reluc- 
tant to  go.  Mrs.  Benham  received  them  politely, 
and  after  the  school  closed,  Marcus  told  her  Ronald 
had  informed  him  that  he  had  had  a  difficulty  with 
her,  and  requested  her  to  give  him  an  account  of 
the  affair. 

"  Something  more  than  a  difficulty,"  replied  the 
teacher ;  "  it  was  a  downright  attack  upon  me,  and 
I  feel  the  effects  of  it  yet.  I  never  was  abused  in 
that  way  by  a  boy  before.  The  way  it  commenced 
was  this :  I  asked  Ronald  to  let  me  look  at  his 
writing-book,  and  I  found  several  large  blots  on 
the  last  page  he  wrote.  I  felt  doubly  provoked, 
because  his  was  the  neatest  writing-book  in  the 
boys'  department,  and  I  Avishcd  it  kept  nice,  for  the 


THE   TEACHER'S   STOKY.  83 

committee  to  examine.  When  I  called  him  to 
account  for  the  blots,  he  answered,  as  children  are 
apt  to  do  in  such  a  case,  that  he  did  n't  know  any- 
thing about  them,  and  never  saw  them  before. 
That  was  a  very  improbable  story,  and  I  felt  almost 
sure,  from  his  actions,  that  he  was  telling  me  a  lie. 
So  I  told  him  I  should  be  obliged  to  punish  him  if 
he  attempted  to  deceive  me.  He  answered,  in  an 
impudent  tone,  that '  he  had  n't  done  anything,  and 
was  n't  going  to  be  whipped  for  nothing.'  I  talked 
with  him  further  about  it,  and  tried  to  persuade 
him  to  tell  the  truth,  but  he  grew  more  obstinate 
and  saucy,  and  threatened  that  he  would  never 
come  to  school  again  if  I  punished  him.  I  thought 
it  was  time  then  to  take  him  in  hand,  so  I  began 
to  punish  him  with  the  ratan;  but  before  I  had 
given  him  half  a  dozen  blows,  he  caught  hold  of 
the  stick,  and  in  jerking  it  away  from  me,  some 
how  threw  me  down  upon  the  floor.  He  then  ran 
off  and  took  my  stick  with  him.  I  hurt  my  shoul- 
der, in  falling,  and  it  is  quite  sore,  now." 

"You  did  n't  tell  me  you  were  impudent,  Ronald; 
why  did  you  keep  that  back  ?  "  inquired  Marcus. 


84  IMPUDENCE. 

"  I  did  n't  know  that  I  was  impudent,"  replied 
Ronald. 

"  Yon  said  I  should  n't  punish  you,  and  that  you 
would  never  come  to  school  again  if  I  did;  shouldn't 
you  call  that  impudent,  Marcus?"  inquired  the 
teacher. 

"  Yes,  I  call  that  impudent  language,  when  ad- 
dressed to  a  teacher,"  replied  Marcus.  "  Still,  I 
think  he  may  not  have  intended  to  be  saucy  —  that 
is  a  fault  he  is  not  much  addicted  to.  What  did 
you  do  with  Mrs.  Benham's  stick,  Ronald  ?  " 

"  I  broke  it,  and  threw  it  into  the  swamp,"  re- 
plied Ronald. 

Marcus  expressed  a  wish  to  see  the  blotted  writ- 
ing-book, and  it  was  handed  to  him.  After  a  close 
examination,  he  discovered  that  the  blots  were  of 
a  lighter  color  than  the  writing  upon  the  page, 
indicating  one  of  two  things :  1st,  They  were 
made  Avith  a  different  ink  from  that  which  Ronald 
used;  or,  2d,  They  had  been  recently  made,  and 
the  ink  had  not  yet  acquired  its  perfect  color  from 
contact  with  the  air.  This  discovery,  however,  gave 
no  clew  to  the  mystery,  although  it  proved  that 
Ronald  did  not  blot  the  book  when  he  last  used  it. 


PUBLIC    CONFESSION.  85 

Ronald  now  renewed  his  protestations  of  inno- 
cence, with  such  apparent  sincerity,  that  Marcus 
felt  satisfied  he  was  telling  the  truth,  especially  as 
he  had  not  known  him  to  adhere  stubbornly  to  a 
falsehood  for  several  years.  His  teacher  also  ad- 
'  mitted  the  possibility  of  his  innocence  so  far  as 
that  offence  was  concerned,  but  thought  he  had 
done  enough,  independent  of  that,  to  justify  her  in 
excluding  him  from  the  school. 

"  We  admit  that  he  has  done  wrong,"  said  Mar- 
cus, "but  we  should  be  very  sorry  to  have  him 
expelled  from  school.  He  expects  to  leave  next 
month,  but  he  must  n't  go  with  such  a  stain  as  this 
upon  his  name.  On  what  conditions  will  you  con- 
sent to  his  coming  back  to  school  ?  " 

Mrs.  Benham  thought  a  moment,  and  then  re- 
plied :  — 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  be  harsh  or  unreasonable  with 
Ronald.  If  he  is  sorry  for  what  lie  has  done,  and 
is  willing  to  say  so  before  the  school,  that  is  enough. 
As  the  offence  was  committed  before  the  Avhole 
school,  I  do  not  think  I  ought  to  ask  less  than  that." 
"I  think  that  is  reasonable,"  replied  Marcus. 

"  Are  you  willing  to  do  it,  Ronald  ?  " 
8 


86  MOTIVES. 

Ronald  made  no  reply  until  the  question  had 
been  repeated  several  times,  and  then  he  merely 
shook  his  head  negatively. 

"  Well,  perhaps  he  will  change  his  mind  before 
to-morrow  morning,"  said  Marcus,  addressing  the 
teacher ;  and  bidding  her  good  evening,  he  started 
for  home,  followed  by  Ronald. 

Marcus  said  little  to  the  boy,  on  their  way  home, 
preferring  to  leave  him  to  his  own  thoughts  —  not 
very  pleasant  company  to  be  sure,  but  perhaps  the 
best  for  him,  under  the  circumstances.  Before  Ro- 
nald went  to  bed,  however,  Mrs.  Page  talked  with 
him  a  little  while  about  the  affair.  There  were 
three  classes  of  motives  by  which  she  endeavored 
to  persuade  him  to  comply  with  the  teacher's  re- 
quirement. First  she  appealed  to  his  affection  for 
her  —  a  motive  that  seldom  failed  to  take  effect 
upon  Ronald.  Then  she  appealed  to  reason,  and 
tried  to  overcome  him  by  argument.  Finally  she 
resorted  to  a  lower  and  more  selfish  class  of  motives, 
and  portrayed  the  disgrace  of  being  expelled  from 
school,  and  the  instantaneous  relief  of  mind  he 
would  find  in  confessing  his  fault.  Still  the  proud 
spirit  was  unsubdued. 


THE     LAST    KESORT.  87 

After  a  troubled  night,  Ronald  awoke  in  quite 
as  unhappy  a  frame  of  mind  as  ever.  He  went 
about  his  morning's  work,  silently,  and  the  other 
children,  not  wishing  to  intermeddle  in  his  trouble, 
kept  so  much  aloof  that  he  fancied  they  shunned 
him.  Oscar,  however,  remembering  a  lesson  that ; 
had  recently  been  impressed  upon  his  mind,  cast 
his  influence  upon  the  right  side,  and  advised  Ro- 
nald to  yield.  Still  the  stubborn  will  revolted  at 
the  thought. 

It  was  a  settled  principle  with  Mrs.  Page,  that 
when  a  child  refuses  to  be  governed  by  such  motives 
as  may  be  drawn  from  love,  reason,  the  hope  of 
reward,  and  the  fear  of  punishment,  it  is  time  for 
authority  to  assume  its  stern  sway.  Having  ex- 
hausted these  motives  upon  Ronald,  in  vain,  there 
remained  but  one  other — YOU  MUST;  and  this  she 
proceeded  to  apply. 

"  Ronald,"  she  said,  a  little  while  before  school 
time,  "  it  is  time  to  be  fixing  for  school ;  and  here 
is  a  note  which  I  wish  you  to  take  to  the  teacher." 

"  Have  I  got  to  go  to  school  to-day  ?  "  inquired 
Ronald,  in  a  tone  of  surprise,  as  though  such  a 
possibility  had  not  occurred  to  him. 


88  GOING     TO     SCHOOL. 

"Yes,"  replied  Mrs.  Page,  in  a  calm  but  firm 
manner,  "you  are  going  to  school  this  morning, 
and  as  soon  as  it  opens  you  will  make  a  public 
apology  for  your  conduct  yesterday.  I  have  writ- 
ten to  your  teacher  that  you  will  do-  so.  You  must 
carry  a  stick,  too,  in  place  of  the  one  you  threw 
away.  Marcus  will  give  it  to  you." 

"But  what  must  I  say?"  inquired  Ronald,  his 
eyes  swimming  with  tears. 

"  Tell  her  you  are  sorry  for  what  you  did  yester- 
day, and  ask  her  to  forgive  you.  That  is  all  you 
need  say." 

With  a  sad  countenance  and  a  heavy  heart,  Ro- 
nald turned  his  steps  towards  the  school-house. 
Reluctant  though  he  was  to  go,  he  hurried  on  his 
way,  hoping  to  reach  the  school-room  before  many 
of  the  scholars  had  assembled.  He  began  to  real- 
ize his  unpleasant  situation  as  he  noticed  that  a 
group  of  little  girls  were  eyeing  him  curiously,  and 
evidently  making  him  the  subject  of  remark.  Soon 
a  squad  of  boys  noticed  his  approach,  and  com- 
menced a  volley  of  rough  salutations. 

"  Halloo,  Ron !  going  to  take  the  rest  of  that 
licking  to-day?"  cried  one. 


FORGIVEN.  89 

"Ha,  old  fellow!  you'll  catch  it  —  I  bet  you 
will,"  said  another. 

"You've  got  to  be  turned  out  of  school  —  teacher 
said  so,"  cried  out  another. 

Ronald  passed  on  without  replying  to  his  young 
tormentors,  and  entering  the  school  room,  depos- 
ited the  letter  and  the  new  ratan  upon  the  teacher's 
desk.  He  then  took  his  seat,  and  tremblingly 
awaited  the  opening  of  the  school.  Mrs.  Benham 
soon  came  in,  and,  after  hastily  reading  the  letter, 
gave  the  signal  for  the  school  to  assemble.  As 
soon  as  the  opening  exercises  were  over,  Ronald 
arose,  and  in  a  low,  tremulous  voice  said: — 

"  Mrs.  Benham,  I  am  very  sorry  for  what  I  did 
yesterday,  and  I  beg  your  pardon." 

Perfect  stillness  reigned  throughout  the  room, 
broken  only  by  the  sobs  of  Ronald,  as  he  sat  down 
and  burst  into  tears.  The  painful  silence  was 
quickly  relieved  by  the  teacher,  who,  grasping  Ro- 
nald kindly  by  the  hand,  said,  with  much  feeling: — 

"  I  forgive  you,  with  all  my  heart,  Ronald,  and  I 
am  glad  you  have  manliness  enough  to  confess  your 
fault,  and  ask  forgiveness.  You  have  acted  very 

honorably,  in  doing  this,  and  I  shall  think  all  the 
8* 


90  THE    UNKNOWN    OFFENDER. 

better  of  you  for  it,  hereafter.  We  will  bury  the 
past  and  be  good  friends  again,"  and  she  gave  \iis 
hand  a  new  shake.  Then  turning  to  the  scKx)l 
she  continued,  "I  have  a  confession  to  make,  too. 
I  am  now  satisfied  that  Ronald  was  not  guilty  of 
the  offence  for  which  I  undertook  to  punish  him 
yesterday.  He  says  he  does  not  know  how  his 
writing-book  was  blotted,  and  I  believe  him.  I 
was  too  hasty,  in  punishing  him,  and  am  sorry  for 
it.  I  ask  his  forgiveness.  And  I  hope  the  one 
that  blotted  the  book  will  come  forward  and  own 
it,  and  relieve  him  from  all  suspicion  of  falsehood." 

The  teacher  paused,  and  looked  around  the  room, 
but  no  one  responded  to  the  call.  She  then  con- 
tinued :  — 

"  I  am  very  sorry  to  think  there  is  one  here  who 
can  be  so  dishonorable,  and  unjust,  and  mean,  as  to 
try  to  conceal  his  fault  under  these  circumstances. 
I  am  sure  he  cannot  have  a  very  quiet  conscience." 

The  kind,  forgiving  spirit  of  the  teacher,  and  her 
readiness  to  acknowledge  her  own  error,  completely 
subdued  the  proud  heart  of  Ronald.  He  felt  truly 
glad  that  he  had  confessed  his  fault.  Indeed,  with 
his  present  feelings,  he  would  have  cheerfully  done 


PEACE.  »1 

it,  of  his  own  free  will.  Not  only  was  a  heavy 
burden  removed  from  his  mind,  but  he  felt  a  new 
and  stronger  affection  for  his  teacher,  realizing  the 
truth  of  the  saying,  that "  whoever  is  forgiven  much, 
will  love  much." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

LET  TEH- WRITING. 

QEVERAL  weeks  had  elapsed,  since  Oscar's 
regular  daily  tasks  were  set,  and  he  continued 
to  discharge  his  duties  in  a  satisfactory  manner. 
The  wood-pile  grew  a  little,  weekly,  under  his  man- 
agement, and  the  kitchen  was  always  kept  well 
supplied  with  fuel.  He  had  become  quite  expert  in 
cutting  hay  and  feeding  the  cows  and  horses,  and 
the  latter  he  cleaned,  harnessed  and  drove,  with 
the  air  of  a  veteran  horseman.  The  hogs,  of  whom 
he  had  the  principal  care,  seemed  quite  contented 
under  their  new  master,  and  rewarded  his  atten- 
tions with  many  grunts  of  satisfaction,  if  not  grat- 
itude. He  had  assisted  cheerfully  in  gathering  the 
late  crops  of  the  farm,  and  had  even  acknowl- 
edged that  milking  the  cows  was  not  so  disagreea- 


TJ  2T  A  N  S  W  E  E  E  D     L  E  T  T  E  K  S  .  93 

ble  work  as  he  had  imagined.  His  lessons,  also, 
were  for  the  most  part  well  learned.  To  be  sure 
they  were  not  very  hard,  being  mostly  reviews  of 
studies  he  had  previously  gone  over.  But  his 
natural  abilities  as  a  scholar  were  good,  and  lie 
learned  easily,  when  he  set  about  it  in  earnest. 
The  only  exercise  that  gave  him  serious  trouble 
was  the  dreaded  Saturday's  "  composition,"  which, 
indeed,  was  more  terrible  in  anticipation  than  in 
reality. 

"  Is  n't  it  almost  time  to  answer  some  of  your  let- 
ters, Oscar  ?  "  inquired  Marcus  one  morning,  as  the 
former  was  about  sitting  down  to  his  lessons. 

"I  suppose  it  is,"  replied  Oscar. 

"Let  me  see,"  continued  Marcus,  "you  have  had 
letters  from  your  mother,  and  from  Alice,  and  from 
Clinton  —  these  have  all  got  to  be  answered.  And 
then  you  promised  to  write  to  Willie,  or  'Whistler,'' 
as  you  call  him,  did  you  not  ?  " 

"Yes,"  replied  Oscar. 

"I'm  afraid  you  are  a  rather  negligent  corre- 
spondent," added  Marcus.  "I  wouldn't  get  into 
that  h::bit,  if  I  were  you.  While  you  are  away 
from  home,  you  will  want  to  hear  from  your  friends 


94  RUDENESS. 

occasionally ;  but  if  you  neglect  them,  they  will 
be  apt  to  neglect  you." 

"  But  I  hate  to  write  letters,"  replied  Oscar. 

"Do  you  consider  that  a  sufficient  reason  for 
neglecting  to  answer  the  letters  of  your  friends  ? ' 
inquired  Marcus. 

"  No,"  replied  Oscar. 

"  Neither  do  I,"  continued  Marcus.  "  So  I  think 
you  had  better  sit  right  down  and  attend  to  your 
correspondence,  to-day,  instead  of  getting  any  les- 
sons. You  will  have  time  enough  to  write  all  four 
of  the  letters.  You  had  better  go  to  your  cham- 
ber, where  you  will  be  out  of  the  way  of  interrup- 
tion. You  have  paper  and  ink,  I  believe  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  responded  Oscar. 

"That  reminds  me  of  something  else,  that  I 
want  to  say  to  you,"  added  Marcus.  "I  have 
noticed  within  a  few  days  that  you  are  getting  in 
the  habit  of  saying  '  yes,'  '  no,'  '  what  ? '  etc.,  when 
speaking  to  your  elders.  I  noticed  it  yesterday, 
when  you  were  talking  with  Mr.  Bun-,  and  I  have 
heard  you  speak  to  mother  and  Aunt  Fanny  in  the 
same  way.  It  is  a  little  thing,  I  know,  but  it 
always  sounds  unpleasantly  to  my  ears.  It  is  dis- 


MARCUS    EXPLAINS.  95 

respectful,  and  shows  ill  breeding.  Somehow,  I 
am  very  apt  to  form  a  bad  opinion  of  a  boy  or  girl 
who  speaks  in  that  way.  It  is  my  opinion  that 
many  a  boy  has  missed  a  good  situation,  by  just 
saying  'yes,'  'no,'  or  'what?'  when  he  applied  for 
a  place,  instead  of  '  yes,  sir,' '  no,  sir,'  or  '  what,  sir  ? ' 
That  is  worth  thinking  of,  if  there  were  no  other 
motive ;  do  n't  you  see  it  is  ?  " 

"  Yes  —  sir,"  replied  Oscar,  nearly  forgetting  the 
very  word  they  were  talking  about. 

"  So  far  as  I  am  concerned,  personally,"  continued 
Marcus,  "  I  have  no  claim  to  be  sirred  by  you,  as 
there  is  a  difference  of  only  a  few  years  in  our  ages. 
Still,  as  your  example  will  have  much  influence  over 
Ronald,  I  thought  I  had  better  mention  the  subject 
to  you.  Besides,  I  may  become  your  teacher  in  a 
few  weeks,  and  you  know  '  Master  Page '  will  have 
to  stand  upon  his  dignity  a  little,  in  the  school- 
room, whether  '  Cousin  Marcus '  chooses  to  or  not. 
At  any  rate,  I  hope  you  will  try  to  speak  respect- 
fully to  older  people,  if  you  do  not  to  me.  There, 
I  wont  detain  you  any  longer  —  you  can  go  to 
work  on  your  letters  as  soon  as  you  please." 

Oscar  went  to  his  room,  and,  having  arranged  his 


96  THEBIKD. 

paper,  ink  and  pen,  sat  down  by  the  open  window, 
for  it  was  a  mild  Indian-summer  day.  He  first 
read  over  the  letters  he  was  to  answer,  and  then 
began  to  think  what  he  should  write  in  reply. 
But,  failing  to  keep  his  mind  upon  the  subject 
before  him,  his  thoughts  gradually  wandered  off, 
until  he  quite  forgot  the  business  in  hand.  As  he 
sat  in  a  dreamy  mood,  gazing  upon  the  hills,  prom- 
inent among  which  was  Prescott's  Peak,  with  its 
signal  still  erect,  he  descried  a  large  bird  sailing 
majestically  through  the  air,  nearly  overhead.  It  was 
at  a  great  height,  but  as  it  approached  the  hills  it 
descended,  and  disappeared  in  the  woods  near  their 
base.  A  few  minutes  afterward  it  again  soared 
aloft,  and,  wheeling  around  the  Peak,  as  if  taking 
an  observation  of  the  monument  which  the  boys  had 
erected,  it  appeared  to  descend  near  the  summit, 
where  Oscar  finally  lost  sight  of  it. 

Oscar  was  satisfied  that  the  strange  bird  was  an 
eagle,  and  as  he  sat  patiently  watching  for  its  reap- 
pearance, he  thought  what  a  fine  shot  it  offered, 
and  imagined  himself  on  the  mountain,  gun  in 
hand,  stealthily  pursuing  the  noble  game.  Now  it 
alights  upon  a  tall  tree,  within  rifle-shot.  Can- 


PERILOUS     DESCENT.  97 

tiously  the  boy-hunter  takes  aim;  "crack!"  goes 
the  fowling-piece ;  and  down  tumbles  the  monarch 
of  t/.c  air,  crashing  through  the  branches  of  the  tree. 
His  feathers  are  stained  with  blood ;  but  his  fierce 
eye  flashes  defiance  at  his  murderer,  as  he  ap- 
proaches, and  with  his  powerful  wing  he  well-nigh 
breaks  the  arm  that  is  stretched  out  to  secure  him. 
After  a  desperate  struggle,  he  is  despatched  by  a 
blow  from  the  butt  of  the  weapon,  and  is  borne 
home  in  triumph  —  a  heavy  task  —  to  the  wonder 
and  admiration  of  the  whole  neighborhood. 

But  Oscar's  kindling  imagination  is  not  satis- 
fied with  this  feat.  It  must  try  again.  The  bird 
eludes  his  gun,  but  he  follows  it,  and  discovers  its 
haunt,  on  a  steep  and  rocky  precipice,  near  one  of 
the  mountain  summits.  Throwing  aside  his  gun, 
and  grasping  such  scanty  and  stunted  trees  as  are 
at  hand,  he  boldly  lowers  himself  down  the  fright- 
ful chasm.  One  misstep,  the  giving  way  of  a  single 
slender  twig,  would  plunge  him  headlong  to  destruc- 
tion ;  but  what  cares  he  for  that  ?  There  is  a  prize 
below,  and  he  is  determined  to  have  it.  Now  he 
catches  a  glimpse  of  the  nest,  on  a  narrow,  shelving 
rock,  and  for  the  first  time  discovers  that  there  are 


08 


THE     PRIZE. 


two  old  birds,  which,  with  outspread  wrings,  are 
guarding  their  young  brood.  Undaunted,  he  de- 
scends the  stc^ep  and 
slippery  rocks,  till  he  is 
almost  within  reach  of 
the  nest.  Now  the 
eagles,  roused  to  fury, 
fly  at  him,  and  with 
wing,  beak  and  talon 
commence  the  assault. 
Supporting  himself  by 
one  hand,  he  uses  the 
other  and  one  foot  to 
ward  off  the  assailants. 
Long  the  battle  rages, 
and  again  and  again 
the  adventurous  hunter 
seerns  almost  overcome; 
but  when  about  to  sink 
down,  faint  and  gasping, 
the  birds,  battered  and 
exhausted,  give  up  the 
contest  in  despair.  The 
boy  seizes  the  prize, 


W  A  S  T  E  D     T  I  M  E  .  99 

scrambles  up  the  fearful  precipice,  and  hurries  home, 
to  raise  a  brood  of  eagles. 

"But  this  isn't  writing  my  letters,"  exclaimed 
Oscar  to  himself,  suddenly  awaking  from  his  day 
dream.  "  A  whole  hour  gone,  and  not  a  line  writ- 
ten yet.  Well,  I  '11  go  about  it,  now.  I  think  I  '11 
write  to  mother  first.  Let  me  think  —  what  day 
of  the  month  is  it  ?  I  am  sure  I  can 't  tell  —  I 
must  run  down  stairs  and  find  out." 

Oscar  went  down  to  the  sitting-room,  and,  by 
referring  to  a  newspaper,  ascertained  the  date. 
But,  before  he  laid  the  paper  aside,  his  eye  was 
attracted  by  the  heading  of  a  story,  and,  on  read- 
ing a  few  lines,  he  became  so  much  interested  in 
it,  that  he  took  the  journal  up  to  his  room,  and 
thought  of  nothing  else  until  he  had  finished  road- 
ing  the  piece.  Then,  remembering  his  neglected 
task,  he  hurriedly  arranged  his  paper,  and  wrote 
the  date  and  complimentary  address.  But  the  ink 
did  not  flow  freely  from  his  pen,  and,  taking  a  sheet 
of  waste  paper,  he  commenced  scribbling  upon  it? 
to  see  if  he  could  remedy  the  trouble.  How  long 
he  continued  this  diversion,  he  was  scarcely  aware, 
but  at  length  it  was  interrupted  by  a  step  on  the 


100  A     HAWK. 

stairs,  and  a  knock  at  his  door.  Quickly  conceal- 
ing the  well  scribbled  evidence  of  his  idleness,  he 
bade  the  visitor  walk  in,  and  Marcus  entered. 

"  Well,  how  do  you  get  along  ?  "  inquired  Mar- 
cus. 

"  Not  very  well,"  replied  Oscar.  "  I  have  been 
hindered  by  one  thing  and  another,  ever  since  I 
began.  To  begin  with,  just  after  I  came  up  here, 
I  saw  an  eagle  flying  over.  Did  n't  you  see  it  ?  " 

"No  —  but  are  you  sure  it  was  an  eagle?" 
inquired  Marcus. 

"  Why,  yes,  it  must  have  been  an  eagle,"  replied 
Oscar.  "  It  was  the  largest  bird  I  ever  saw,  and  I 
should  think  he  was  all  of  a  mile  high  when  he 
flew  over.  He  lit  on  the  Peak,  and  that  was  the 
last  I  saw  of  him." 

"Yes,  I  remember,  now,  —  I  did  see  a  hawk 
over  in  that  neighborhood,  and  that  must  have 
been  your  eagle,"  quietly  observed  Marcus. 

Oscar  did  not  relish  such  a  summary  disposal  of 
his  eagle  story,  and  was  about  to  protest  against  it, 
when  Marcus  inquired  how  many  letters  he  had 
Gnished. 

"  None,"  replied  Oscar. 


SCRIBBLINGS.  101 

"  Not  one !  "  exclaimed  Marcus ;  "  and  is  that 
the  beginning  of  the  first  letter?  "  glancing  at  the 
sheet  which  contained  the  date  and  address. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Oscar. 

"  Ah,  you  have  been  reading  the  newspaper,  as 
well  as  .watching  hawks,"  continued  Marcus,  as  his 
eye  fell  upon  the  printed  sheet. 

"  I  got  that  to  see  about  the  date,"  replied  Oscar, 
forgetting  that  sometimes  there  is  little  difference 
between  half  of  a  truth  and  a  lie. 

"What  have  you  been  doing  all  the  forenoon, 
then  ?  "  inquired  Marcus. 

"The  ink  is  so  thick  that  I  couldn't  write," 
added  Oscar. 

"  Let  me  try  it,"  said  Marcus ;  and  he  seated 
himself  in  Oscar's  chair,  and,  looking  for  some  waste 
paper,  drew  out  the  sheet  which  his  cousin  had 
covered  with  all  sorts  of  flourishes,  figures,  puz- 
zles, etc.  "  I  think  the  ink  must  flow  pretty  freely, 
if  it  is  thick,"  he  quietly  added. 

Having  satisfied  himself  that  the  ink  was  not  to 
blame,  Marcus  said  he  was  sorry  the  letters  were 
not  finished,  as  he  was  expecting  to  drive  over  to 
an  adjoining  town,  in  the  afternoon,  and  intended 


102  A     PEISONEK. 

to  let  Oscar  accompany  him,  if  his  task  "was  com- 
pleted. Oscar  said  he  thought  he  could  finish  the 
letters  after  he  got  back;  but  his  cousin  was  far 
from  agreeing  with  him  in  this  opinion. 

"No,"  said  Marcus,  "you  will  hardly  get  through 
this  afternoon,  supposing  you  work  diligently. 
I  think  you  had  better  not  stop  even  for  dinner, 
but  I  will  bring  you  up  something  to  eat,  so  that 
you  need  lose  no  time.  I  want  you  to  finish  the 
four  letters  before  you  leave  the  room,  if  possible." 

Oscar  hardly  knew  whether  to  consider  himself 
a  prisoner,  or  not,  so  pleasantly  had  Marcus  ad- 
dressed him.  He  concluded,  however,  that  it  was 
time  to  go  to  work,  and  was  soon  deeply  engaged 
in  the  letter  to  his  mother.  Now  that  his  mind 
was  aroused,  and  his  attention  fixed,  he  found  no 
difficulty  in  writing,  and  the  letter  was  about  com- 
pleted, when  Marcus  appeared,  with  a  light  repast, 
instead  of  the  accustomed  substantial  noonday  meal. 

"I  never  feel  like  writing,  after  a  hearty  meal, — 
so  I  have  brought  you  a  light  dinner,"  said  Mar- 
cus, setting  the  tray  upon  the  table. 

"  What  time  shall  you  start  ?  "  inquired  Oscar. 

"  In  about  an  hour,"  was  the  reply. 


THE     TASK     FINISHED.  103 

"  I  have  got  one  letter  about  done,"  said  Oscar, 
"  and  I  can  finish  another  before  you  go.  Do  n't 
you  suppose  I  could  finish  the  other  two  after  we 
get  back  ?  " 

"  I  am  afraid  not,"  replied  Marcus.  "  You  will 
have  but  little  time,  then,  and  besides,  you  wont 
feel  like  writing.  I  think  you  had  better  finish 
your  letters  before  you  do  anything  else.  Perhaps 
you  can  get  them  done  in  season  to  mail  them  to- 
day." 

Marcus  now  withdrew,  and  in  the  course  of  an 
hour  drove  off  upon  his  errand.  "When  he  returned, 
he  found  the  family  at  tea,  and  Oscar  with  them. 

"Well,  Oscar,  have  you  written  all  your  let- 
ters ?  "  inquired  Marcus. 

"Yes,  sir,  and  earned  them  to  the  post  office, 
too,"  replied  Oscar. 

"Ah,  you  have  been  pretty  smart  —  that  is,  if 
you  did  n't  make  them  too  short,"  observed  Marcus. 

"  They  are  about  as  long  as  niy  letters  generally 
are,"  replied  Oscar  « 

"  You  found  no  great  difficulty  in  writing,  when 
you  bent  your  mind  down  to  it,  did  you  ?  "  inquired 
Marcus. 


104  A     PLAN. 

"  No,  sir,  not  much." 

"  I  supposed  you  would  n't,"  continued  Marcus. 
"  Mother,  I  've  been  thinking  of  a  plan,  this  after- 
noon, for  making  letter-writing  pleasant,  and  I  want 
your  opinion  of  it." 

"  I  think  highly  of  letter-writing  as  an  exercise," 
said  Mrs.  Page,  "  and  if  you  can  devise  a  way  to 
make  the  children  like  it,  I  shall  be  very  glad." 

"  I  can't  see  what  makes  boys  hate  to  write  let- 
ters so  —  for  my  part  I  like  to  do  it,"  said  Kate. 

"  Yes,  I  should  think  you  liked  it  —  you  write 
half  a  dozen  billets  every  day,  in  school,"  interposed 
Otis. 

"  Why,  Otis  Sedgwick,  what  a  story !  I  do  n't 
believe  I  have  averaged  more  than  one  note  a  day, 
this  whole  term,"  replied  Kate. 

"  Well,  that  speaks  pretty  well  for  your  episto- 
lary taste,  if  you  have  done  nothing  more,"  said 
Marcus.  "  But  let  me  explain  my  plan.  I  propose 
that  we  have  a  letter  box  put  up  in  some  part  of 
the  house,  and  that  every  one  in  the  family  engage 
to  write  one  letter  a  week  to  some  other  member, 
and  drop  it  into  the  box,  which  we  might  call  our 
post  office.  The  greatest  liberty  might  be  allowed, 


THE     QUESTION    PUT.  105 

in  the  choice  of  subjects  and  style,  and  the  letters 
might  be  anonymous,  or  written  in  an  assumed 
character,  if  preferred.  If  any  one  wanted  to  ask 
a  favor,  or  make  a  complaint,  or  offer  a  suggestion, 
or  correct  an  error,  or  drop  a  word  of  caution  or 
reproof,  or  indulge  a  fancy,  or  make  sport,  this 
would  afford  a  good  opportunity  to  do  it.  What 
do  you  think  of  the  plan,  mother  ?  " 

"  I  think  it  is  a  good  idea,  and  I  shall  vote  for 
giving  it  a  fair  trial,"  said  Mrs.  Page. 

"And  how  does  it  strike  you,  Aunt  Fanny?" 
continued  Marcus. 

"  Very  favorably,"  replied  Miss  Lee.  "  If  you  can 
interest  the  young  folks  in  it,  I  have  no  doubt  it 
will  work  well." 

"  O,  I  think  it  is  a  capital  idea  —  I  shall  vote  for 
it  with  both  hands,"  exclaimed  Kate. 

"And  what  say  you,  Oscar?"  inquired  Marcus. 

"  I  suppose  I  must  come  into  the  arrangement, 
if  all  the  others  do,"  replied  Oscar,  smiling. 

"  Not  much  enthusiasm  there,"  observed  Mar- 
cus ;  "  but  we  '11  excuse  him,  as  he  has  been  writing 
letters  all  day.  Well,  Otis,  what  do  you  say  to  the 
plan?" 


106  THE     PLAN    ADOPTED. 

"  I  hate  to  write  letters,"  replied  Otis. 

"Very  likely,"  said  Marcus;  "and  that  is  pre- 
cisely the  reason  why  you  ought  to  come  into  our 
arrangement,  for  we  are  going  to  try  to  make  let- 
ter-writing easy  and  pleasant." 

"  Well,  I  '11  agree  to  it,"  said  Otis. 

"  Of  course  you  wont  hang  back,  Ronald  ?  "  added 
Marcus. 

"I  don't  know  about  that,"  replied  Ronald. 
"  Could  n't  I  be  mail-boy,  or  post-master,  or  some- 
thing of  that  sort,  and  so  be  excused  from  wri- 
ting?" 

"  We  probably  shall  not  need  your  services  in 
that  line  —  we  can  help  ourselves  to  our  letters," 
replied  Marcus. 

"Well,  I'll  join  your  society  on  one  condition," 
said  Ronald,  with  an  air  of  grave  importance. 

"  What  is  that  ?  "  inquired  Marcus. 

"That  you  shan't  make  us  write  long  letters," 
was  the  reply. 

"  Your  letters  may  be  as  long  or  as  short  as  you 
choose  to  make  them,"  replied  Marcus.  "  We  have 
all  agreed  to  the  plan  —  now  I  think  it  would  be 
well  to  have  a  few  written  rules,  to  govern  us. 


A     SOCIETY.  107 

Perhaps  we  can  arrange  that  after  we  get  through 
our  work  this  evening." 

The  proposal  was  approved,  and  in  the  evening 
the  subject  was  again  brought  up.  All  were  invited 
to  offer  such  suggestions  as  occurred  to  them. 

"  Would  it  not  be  well  enough  for  us  to  resolve 
ourselves  into  a  society,  and  adopt  a  name?"  inquir- 
ed Aunt  Fanny. 

"I  think  it  would,  —  what  shall  we  call  it?" 
inquired  Marcus. 

"  The  Post  Office  Society,"  suggested  Otis. 

"  The  Literary  Fraternity,"  proposed  Kate. 

"  The  Letter-writing  Society,"  said  Mrs.  Page. 

The  latter  name  was  finally  adopted,  as  being 
more  expressive  than  the  others.  Aunt  Fanny 
then  suggested  that  the  title  needed  the  addition 
of  some  qualifying  word,  to  make  it  more  definite 
and  distinctive. 

"  Call  it  the  Highburg  Letter-writing  Society," 
said  Kate. 

"  There  are  only  seven  of  us,  and  I  doubt  whether 
it  would  be  exactly  modest  to  appropriate  the  name 
of  the  town  to  our  association,"  remarked  Mrs. 
Page. 


108  CHOOSING     A    NAME. 

"The  Page  Letter-writing  Society,"  suggested 
Ronald. 

"The  Excelsior  Letter-writing  Society,"  proposed 
Kate. 

"  That  is  better,"  said  Marcus.  "  Does  anybody 
object  to  it?  No;  so  we  will  call  that  point  set- 
tled. Now  please  to  suggest  rules  for  our  govern- 
ment." 

"  Every  member  must  write  at  least  one  letter 
weekly  to  some  other  member,"  said  Mrs.  Page. 

"And  if  any  one  fails  to  contribute  his  share  to 
the  stock  of  letters,  what  shall  be  done  to  him  ? " 
inquired  Miss  Lee. 

"  Turn  him  out,"  said  Otis. 

"Debar  him  from  taking  any  letters  from  the 
office,  until  he  has  made  good  all  deficiencies,"  sug- 
gested Mrs.  Page. 

This  latter  proposal  was  adopted,  and  further 
suggestions  called  for. 

"  All  letters  must  be  sealed,"  suggested  Kate. 

"  And  pre-paid,"  added  Ronald. 

"  I  hardly  think  it  necessary  to  seal  the  letters," 
said  Marcus.  "  Perhaps  we  had  better  leave  that 
optional  Avith  the  writer." 


109 

"But  I  think  the  one  that  receives  the  letter 
ought  to  have  something  to  say  about  that,  as  well 
as  the  writer,"  said  Kate. 

"Well,  I  have  no  objection  to  your  rule,  if  no 
one  else  has,"  said  Marcus. 

Several  other  rules  were  agreed  to,  and  noted 
down  by  Marcus.  When  completed,  the  list  of 
regulations  stood  as  follows : 

"REGULATIONS  OF  THE  EXCELSIOR  LETTER-WRITING 
SOCIETY. 

"  Each  member  shall  write  at  least  one  letter  per 
week  to  some  other  member. 

"Any  member  who  fails  to  comply  with  this 
rule,  without  a  reasonable  excuse,  shall  forfeit  his 
right  to  take  letters  from  the  post  office  until  his 
delinquency  is  made  good. 

"  Each  member  shall  divide  his  epistolary  favors 
as  equally  among  the  others  as  possible. 

"The  utmost  freedom  as  to  matter  and  style 
will  be  allowed,  but  nothing  must  be  written  cal- 
culated to  wound  the  feelings  of  another. 

"  Fictitious  signatures,  and  a  disguised  hand,  are 
allowable,  when  preferred. 

"  All  letters  to  be  sealed. 

"  The  post  office  to  be  accessible  to  any  member, 

at  all  times." 

10 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE    EAIN    POWER. 

A  FTER  the  children  had  gone  to  school,  the 
next  day,  Marcus  made  a  letter-box,  and  fast- 
ened it  against  the  wall,  in  the  entry.  While  he 
was  at  work  upon  it,  a  young  lady  from  another 
part  of  the  town  called  in  to  invite  the  family  to  a 
husking  party.  On  learning  the  design  of  the  box, 
she  solicited  the  privilege  of  inaugurating  it,  which 
was  readily  granted.  So,  begging  a  sheet  or  two 
of  paper,  she  sat  down  and  wrote  notes  of  invita- 
tion to  Kate,  Otis  and  Ronald,  and  dropped  them 
into  the  box. 

"Hurrah!  here's  the  post  office  box,  and  some 
letters  in  it ! "  exclaimed  Ronald,  when  he  came 
home  from  school  in  the  afternoon. 

"  I  'm  going  to  have  the  first  one,  let  me  sec  if 
I  'm  not,"  cried  Kate,  rushing  for  the  post  office. 


THE     INVITATION.  Ill 

"  No,  the  first  one  is  for  me,  but  here 's  one  you 
may  have,"  replied  Ronald,  handing  Kate  the  note 
directed  to  her. 

"Well,  there's  one  rule  broken,  the  very  first 
thing  —  it  isn't  sealed,"  said  Kate;  "and  it  is  writ- 
ten with  a  lead  pencil,  too  —  I  do  n't  think  that 's 
fair." 

She  opened  the  billet,  and  read :  — 

"  Miss  Jenny  Marsh  requests  the  pleasure  of  Miss 
Katharine  SedgAvick's  company  at  a  husking  party 
011  Friday  evening. 

"Oct.  16th." 

The  notes  addressed  to  Ronald  and  Otis  were  in 
the  same  form  as  Kate's.  The  invitation  was  quite 
gratifying  to  all  of  the  children,  and  the  proposed 
party  occupied  a  large  share  of  their  thoughts  and 
tongues,  for  the  rest  of  the  day.  Their  ardor  was 
somewhat  dampened,  however,  by  Mrs.  Page,  who 
told  them  she  thought  a  storm  was  near,  which 
might  interfere  with  their  arrangements. 

"  I  do  n't  see  any  signs  of  a  storm  —  I  think  it 
looks  real  pleasant,"  said  Kate. 

"  The  water  boiled  away  from  the  potatoes  very 


112  SORRY    MIS  II  APS. 

fast,  this  noon,  and  that  is  a  pretty  good  sign  of 
rain,"  replied  Mrs.  Page. 

"I  don't  see  what  that  has  to  do  with  rain," 
said  Ronald. 

"I  can't  explain  it  very  clearly,"  replied  Mrs. 
Page,  "but  I  know  it  is  so.  I  suppose  there  is 
something  peculiar  in  the  state  of  the  atmosphere, 
just  before  a  storm,  which  makes  boiling  water 
evaporate,  or  fly  off  into  steam,  more  rapidly  than 
at  other  times." 

The  sun  rose  clear,  the  next  morning,  and  the 
children  laughed  at  Mrs.  Page  for  her  prediction  of 
rain.  But  in  an  hour  or  two,  clouds  began  to 
gather,  and  early  in  the  afternoon  a  heavy  rain 
commenced.  The  children  came  home  from  school, 
wet,  disappointed,  and  cross.  Every  thing  seemed 
to  go  wrong  with  them,  the  rest  of  the  day.  Kate 
had  wet  her  feet,  and  a  grumbling  tooth-ache  ad- 
monished her  that  she  had  taken  cold.  Otis  had 
left  his  new  kite  out  doors,  and  found  the  paper 
upon  it  reduced  to  a  handful  of  pulp,  when  he 
came  home.  The  cows  chose  the  luckless  day  to 
take  a  stroll  into  the  neighbors'  enclosures,  and  led 
Ronald  on  a  long  and  provoking  tramp  through 


DISAPPOINTMENT.  113 

the  wet  grass  and  soft,  spongy  lowlands,  in  search 
of  them.  Nor  did  Oscar  escape  his  share  of  the 
ill-luck  which  seemed  to  brood  over  the  household ; 
for  while  milking,  one  of  the  cows,  nettled  perhaps 
by  her  long  walk  and  the  unpleasant  state  of  the 
weather,  gave  him  a  slap  across  his  eyes  with  her 
wet  tail  that  almost  took  away  his  sight  for  a  few 
minutes,  at  the  same  time  leaving  upon  his  face  an 
embrocation  that  was  not  exactly  calculated  to 
soothe  his  ruffled  feelings. 

"What  is  the  matter?  have  you  all  got  the 
blues  ? "  inquired  Marcus,  at  the  tea-table,  as  he 
observed  how  gloomy  and  silent  the  younger  por- 
tion of  the  family  appeai-ed. 

"  O  dear,  I  should  think  this  horrid  weather  was 
enough  to  give  any  one  the  blues,"  exclaimed  Kate. 

"  It  does  n't  affect  me  very  unpleasantly,"  replied 
Marcus. 

"  Well,  you  do  n't  care  anything  about  the  husk- 
ing party,  I  suppose,"  said  Kate. 

"Oh,  it's  the  disappointment,  and  not  the  weather, 
that  troubles  you,"  observed  Marcus. 

"  Xot  altogether  that,  but  I  think  it 's  too  bad 

we  can't  go  to-night,"  replied  Kate. 
10* 


114  NO     RAIN    WANTED. 

"  It  is  too  bad  that  all  the  affairs  of  this  world 
can't  be  ordered  to  suit  your  convenience,"  added 
Marcus. 

"  No,  I  do  n't  wish  that ;  but  when  I  make  up 
my  mind  to  go  any  where,  I  do  want  to  go,"  said 
Kate. 

"  Which  is  pretty  much  the  same  thing  as  wish- 
ing that  Providence  would  lay  all  his  plans  with 
special  reference  to  your  private  interests,  without 
regard  to  the  rest  of  the  world." 

Kate  made  no  reply,  but  Ronald  came  to  her 
rescue. 

"  I  do  n't  believe  anybody  wants  it  to  rain,  now," 
he  said ;  "  the  crops  are  all  in,  and  what  good  will 
it  do?" 

"  I  think  the  owners  of  mills  on  the  rivers  could 
give  you  a  good  reason  why  it  ought  to  rain  now," 
replied  Marcus ;  "  and  perhaps  we  should  find 
another  reason  at  the  bottom  of  our  wells,  after 
we  have  used  up  all  the  water,  a  few  months  hence." 

"  "Well,  then,  I  do  n't  think  it  need  rain  so  much 
at  a  time,"  said  Ronald.  "  Just  hear  how  it 's  pour- 
ing down  now,  and  it  has  been  raining  so  almost 
all  the  afternoon." 


HOW    MUCH    WATER    FELL.  115 

"  How  much  water  do  you  suppose  has  fallen  ?  " 
inquired  Marcus. 

"  About  a  foot,  I  guess,"  replied  Ronald. 

"  A  foot  of  rain ! "  exclaimed  Marcus,  with  aston- 
ishment. 

"  Well,  half  a  foot,  certainly,"  said  Ronald. 

"  No ;  halve  it  again,  and  you  will  come  nearer  to 
the  truth,"  added  Marcus. 

"  What,  only  three  inches  ?  it 's  more  than  that, 
I  know,"  said  Ronald. 

"  I  doubt  whether  you  have  any  idea  how  much 
three  inches  of  rain  is,"  replied  Marcus.  "After 
tea  we  will  go  into  a  little  calculation  about  it." 

When  the  tea  table  was  cleared  away,  Marcus 
proposed  that  all  the  children  should  provide  them- 
selves with  paper  or  slates,  and  see  if  they  could 
ascertain  how  much  water  had  fallen  in  Ilighburg 
that  day. 

"  We  will  assume,"  he  said,  "  that  three  inches 
of  rain  has  fallen,  on  a  level,  which  I  think  may  be 
very  near  the  true  quantity.  The  town  contains 
about  thirty  square  miles.  Now,  the  first  question 
is,  how  many  hogsheads  of  water  have  fallen  on 
this  surface,  to-day  ?  " 


116  A    FEW    CALCULATIONS. 

For  a  few  moments  nothing  was  heard  but  the 
clicking  and  scratching  of  pencils,  and  the  rustling 
of  the  leaves  of  the  arithmetic,  by  those  who  were 
not  quite  sure  they  knew  the  "  tables."  Those  who 
finished  the  work  first  were  requested  to  keep 
silent  till  the  others  had  got  through.  When  aF 
were  ready,  the  answers  were  read  off.  The  solu- 
tions of  Marcus,  Oscar  and  Kate  agreed,  and  were 
assumed  to  be  correct;  while  those  of  Ronald 
and  Otis  were  different,  and  were  voted  incorrect. 
Marcus  then  proposed  several  other  questions  in 
regard  to  the  rain,  which  led  to  a  series  of  calcula- 
tions. The  children  soon  became  quite  interested 
in  the  problems,  and  were  not  a  little  surprised  at 
the  facts  brought  out.  Marcus  noted  down  the 
several  answers,  on  a  clean  sheet  of  paper,  and  the 
following  is  a  copy  of  the  record :  — 

"WHAT  THE  CLOUDS  DID  IN  HALF  A  DAT. 

"  The  water  that  has  fallen  this  afternoon  and 
evening,  in  this  town  alone,  would  fill  24,826,775 
hogsheads. 

"It  would  measure  209,088,000  cubic  feet. 

"Its  weight  is  5,833,928  tons. 


A     FEW     CALCULATIONS.  117 

"  Were  this  water  all  in  a  pond,  thirty  feet  deep, 
it  would  be  sufficient  to  float  3,484  vessels,  allow- 
ing 2,000  square  feet  to  each,  or  about  one-sixth  of 
all  the  steam  and  sailing  vessels  of  every  class  in 
the  United  States. 

i  "  It  would  take  a  man  13,792  years  to  distribute 
this  water,  with  a  watering  pot,  supposing  he  dis- 
tributed 6  hogsheads  a  day,  and  worked  300  days 
in.  a  year. 

"  To  distribute  it  in  the  same  time  as  the  clouds, 
half  a  day,  would  require  8,275,590  men,  or  more 
than  twice  as  many  as  voted  at  the  Presidential 
election  of  1856,  in  the  United  States. 

"It  would  take  $6,206,692  to  pay  these  men  for 
their  services,  at  the  rate  of  $1,50  per  day 

"  If  this  water  had  all  fallen  to  the  earth  in  one 
solid  mass,  from  a  height  of  one  mile,  it  would 
have  struck  the  ground  with  a  force  of  3,389,512,- 
500  tons." 

"There,"  said  Marcus,  after  reading  aloud  the 
foregoing  record,  "  who  would  have  imagined  that 
the  clouds  were  carrying  on  such  an  extensive  busi- 
ness as  that?  Isn't  it  wonderful?  And  then 
just  think  that  this  storm  has  extended  over  per- 
haps half  of  the  United  States.  What  a  deluge  of 


118  ANNUAL    FALL    OF    RAIN. 

water  must  have  fallen !  And  this,  you  must  re- 
member, is  an  account  of  only  one  storm  —  only 
three  inches  of  rain,  out  of  thirty  or  forty  that  we 
have  every  year." 

"  Why !  do  we  have  as  much  rain  as  that  in  a 
year  ?  "  inquired  Kate. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Marcus,  "  our  average  in  this  part 
of  Vermont  is,  I  believe,  about  thirty-two  inches, 
including  snow  reduced  to  water.  Along  the  sea 
coast  they  have  more  —  in  Boston,  for  instance, 
about  forty  inches.  There  are  some  parts  of  the 
world  where  they  have  almost  as  many  feet  of  rain 
as  Ave  have  inches,  and  nearly  all  of  it  falls  in  about 
two  months  of  the  year,  too."  * 

*  According  to  Prof.  Guyot,  rain  falls  at  Paramaribo,  in 
Dutch  Guiana,  to  the  amount  of  229  inches,  or  1 9  feet,  annu- 
ally. There  is  a  place  in  Brazil  where  276  inches,  or  23  feet, 
have  fallen  in  a  year.  But  the  greatest  quantity  ever  observed 
is  at  an  elevated  point  in  British  India,  south  of  Bombay,  where 
the  enormous  amount  of  302  inches,  or  over  25  feet,  has  fallen 
in  a  year.  At  Cayenne,  21  inches  of  rain  have  been  known  to 
fall  in  a  single  day,  or  nearly  as  much  as  falls  in  a  whole  year 
in  the  northern  latitudes.  The  annual  average  fall  in  tropical 
America,  is  115  inches;  in  temperate  America,  39  inches.  The 
average  for  the  entire  surface  of  the  globe  is  about  five  feet. 
These  figures  may  afford  the  young  arithmetician  a  basis  for  a 
variety  of  curious  calculations,  some  rainy  day,  when  he  is  at  a 


RAINY    REGIONS.  119 

"What  do  people  do  there?  I  should  think 
they  would  be  all  washed  away,"  said  Kate. 

"  N~o,"  said  Marcus,  "  it  is  n't  so  bad  as  it  seems- 
It  is  soon  over  with,  and  they  have  more  pleasant 
days  in  the  year  than  we  do.  I  suppose  they  pity 
us  because  we  have  so  many  stormy  days,  and  yet 
get  so  little  rain  after  all.  Besides,  they  know  about 
when  their  rainy  days  are  coming,  and  can  be  pre- 
pared for  them." 

"  But,  after  all,"  said  Aunt  Fanny,  "  I  think  our 
arrangement  of  the  weather  is  best,  if  it  does  some- 
times interfere  with  our  plans.  We  generally  have 
all  the  rain  we  want,  and  it  is  given  to  us  a  little 
at  a  time,  as  we  need  it.  This  is  better  for  us  and 
for  vegetation  than  to  have  all  our  rain  fall  in  two 
months  of  the  year,  and  then  to  have  three  or  four 
times  as  much  as  we  really  need." 

"  Then  why  does  n't  God  make  it  rain  so  every 
where,  if  that  way  is  best  ?  "  inquired  Ronald. 

"  For  wise  and  good  reasons,  no  doubt,"  replied 
Aunt  Fanny.  "What  is  best  for  the  temperate 
zones  may  not  be  best  for  the  tropics.  People  who 

loss  for  amusement,  and  is  disposed  to  look  a  little  more  curi- 
ously iuto  die  wonderful  results  of  "  the  rain  power." 


120  TROPICAL    RAINS. 

go  from  this  latitude  to  tropical  countries  find  the 
rainy  season  very  unhealthy,  but  it  is  different 
with  those  who  were  born  there." 

"I  suppose  one  object  of  these  heavy  rains  be- 
tween the  tropics  is  to  supply  the  great  rivers  of 
South  America  and  Africa,"  said  Marcus.  "We 
all  know  how  Egypt  is  fertilized  by  the  overflow- 
ing of  the  Nile ;  but  the  Nile  would  not  overflow 
were  it  not  for  these  immense  rains  in  the  country 
where  it  rises.  So  with  the  great  rivers  of  South 
America,  which  overflow  in  the  rainy  season,  and 
form  inland  seas,  that  serve  as  reservoirs  in  the  dry 
months." 

"  And  it  is  so  with  all  the  rivers  in  the  world  — 
they  are  nothing  but  drains  to  carry  away  the  sur- 
plus rain-water,"  said  Mrs.  Page. 

"  "Well,"  said  Marcus,  glancing  at  the  figures  be- 
fore him,  "we  have  ascertained  that  nearly  six 
million  tons  of  water  have  fallen  in  our  town  to- 
day. Otis,  can  you  explain  how  this  immense  body 
of  water  was  raised  into  the  air  ?  " 

"  I  can  explain  it,"  said  Kate,  seeing  that  her 
brother  hesitated. 

"  Let  Otis  try  first,"  replied  Marcus. 


HOW  CLOUDS  ARE  FORMED.     121 

"Was  it  drawn  up  from  the  ocean  by  the  sun?" 
inquired  Otis. 

"  Yes,  that  is  the  correct  explanation,"  continued 
Marcus.  "Now,  Kate,  can  you  tell  us  any  more 
about  it?" 

"  The  heat  of  the  sun,"  said  Kate,  "  causes  a  va- 
por to  go  up  into  the  air  from  the  ocean,  and  lakes, 
and  rivers,  and  from  everything  that  contains  wa- 
ter. This  is  called  evaporation.  You  can't  see 
this  vapor,  as  it  flies  away  into  the  air,  but  when 
the  atmosphere  grows  cold,  it  forms  clouds,  and 
falls  in  rain." 

"  I  should  think  the  vapor  would  all  dry  up,  and 
be  lost,  when  the  air  is  so  warm,"  said  Ronald. 

"What  do  you  mean  by  drying  up?"  inquired 
Marcus. 

"  Why,  you  know,  —  I  mean  drying  up,  —  I  can't 
think  of  any  other  way  to  explain  it,"  replied  Ro- 
nald. 

"When  the  water  in  a  puddle  dries  up,"  said 
Marcus,  "  it  flies  into  the  air,  in  the  form  of  a  vapor, 
and  that  is  evaporation.  That  is  all  the  drying  up 
there  is  about  it.  The  air  steals  the  water  from 

the  puddle,  and  then  keeps  it  a  close  prisoner  till 
11 


122  EVAPORATION. 

the  cold  releases  it.  The  water  doesn't  dry  tip 
acrain  in  the  air,  but  remains  there.  The  warmer 

O  ' 

the  air,  the  more  water  it  will  hold.  In  the  tropics, 
where  they  have  such  fierce  heats,  the  air  is  always 
full  of  moisture,  and  the  plants  draw  it  out  by 
means  of  their  large  leaves,  and  so  they  manage 
to  flourish  the  year  round,  although  they  have  no 
rain  or  even  clouds  for  months  in  succession.  It  is 
so  with  us,  on  a  very  sultry  day,  —  there  is  more 
water  than  usual  in  the  air,  at  such  a  time,  although 
we  cannot  see  it.  Now,  Kate,  can  you  explain  why 
this  vapor  which  heat  produces,  flies  away  to  the 
region  of  the  clouds  ?  " 

"  Because  it  is  lighter  than  the  air,"  replied  Kate. 

"  Right,"  said  Marcus. 

"You  said  you  couldn't  see  this  moisture  rise 
from  the  earth,"  said  Aunt  Fanny,  "  but  that  is  not 
always  the  case.  We  see  it  in  our  breath,  on  a 
cold  day,  when  it  looks  like  steam  issuing  from  our 
mouths.  I  have  seen  a  river  steaming  as  though 
there  were  a  fire  under  it,  in  a  very  cold  day,  before 
ice  had  formed  over  it.  We  see  this  process  going 
on,  too,  in  the  vapors  or  fogs  which  often  collect 
over  ponds,  and  rivers,  and  the  ocean.  But  com- 


THE    WATER    CARRIERS.  123 

monly,  as  Kate  says,  we  see  nothing  of  these  vapors 
until  they  are  condensed  into  clouds  by  the  cold 
air  above,  although  they  are  continually  flying  off 
from  our  bodies,  and  from  the  ground,  and  every 
thing  that  grows  in  it.  When  we  hang  out  our 
clothes  to  dry,  after  washing  them,  the  water  in 
them  goes  to  help  make  clouds." 

"  There  is  one  other  agent  in  this  business,  that 
has  not  been  mentioned,"  said  Marcus.  "  The  sun 
draws  the  water,  the  atmosphere  holds  it  as  in  a 
sponge,  and  the  cold  squeezes  the  sponge  and  re- 
turns the  water  to  the  earth.  But  the  rain  is  not 
needed  where  it  is  first  collected  —  it  must  be  trans- 
ported to  distant  parts  of  the  earth ;  and  how  is 
this  done  ?  " 

"  By  the  winds,"  replied  Oscar. 

"  Yes,"  resumed  Marcus,  "  the  winds  are  the  great 
water-carriers,  that  distribute  the  rain  over  the 
earth.  Here,  then,  we  have  the  whole  list  of  forces 
employed  in  this  wonderful  ram  power,  viz. : 

"  1 .     The  sun,  to  draw  the  water  by  its  heat. 

"  2.    The  atmosphere,  to  hold  it. 

"  3.  The  winds,  to  transport  it  over  the  conti- 
nents. 


124  WHY    THE    BAIN    FALLS. 

"4.  The  cold,  to  discharge  it  from  the  clouds 
when  it  has  reached  its  destination."  * 

"How  does  the  cold  make  the  rain  fall?"  in- 
quired Ronald. 

"  It  contracts  the  air,"  replied  Marcus,  "  and  the 
vapor  is  consequently  condensed,  or  cixnvded  to- 
gether, so  that  its  particles  unite  and  form  drops 
of  rain,  which  are  heavier  than  the  air,  and  fall  to 
the  earth.  As  I  said  before,  the  atmosphere  may 
be  compared  to  a  sponge,  which  holds  a  certain 
quantity  of  water,  in  minute  particles.  When  the 
air  sponge  is  contracted,  these  particles  mingle 
together  and  run  out,  and  then  it  rains." 

"What  a  squeezing  the  sponge  must  have  had 
to-day ! "  exclaimed  Ronald. 

"When  the  vapor  freezes  before  it  falls  to  the 
earth,"  said  Kate,  "it  becomes  snow;  and  when 
very  cold  and  very  hot  and  moist  air  come  together, 
they  make  hail,  or  ice." 

"  I  know  a  riddle  about  that,"  said  Ronald,  re- 
peating : — 

*  Strictly  speaking,  these  agents  may  be  reduced  to  two ;  for 
the  wind  is  only  air  in  motion,  and  cold  is  not  a  substance,  but 
merely  the  absence  of  heat,  as  darkness  is  the  absence  of  light. 


SNOW    CRYSTALS.  125 

"  My  father  is  the  Northern  Wind, 
My  mother's  name  was  Water : 

Old  Parson  Winter  married  them, 
And  I  'm  their  hopeful  daughter." 

"Did  you  know  that  snow-flakes  are  usually  crys- 
tals of  regular  and  beautiful  forms  ?  "  inquired  Mar- 
cus. 

Kate  and  Oscar  had  read  of  this,  but  it  was  new 
to  the  other  children.  Marcus  took  down  a  volume 


from  the  library,  and  showed  to  them  some  draw- 
ings of  these  snow  crystals,  as  seen  under  a  micro- 

% 

scope,  a  few  of  which  are  here  given.     There  is  an 
11* 


126  RAINLESS    DESEKTS. 

endless  variety  of  these  crystals,  the  most  beautiful 
of  which  are  found  in  the  polar  regions  ;  but 
sometimes  the  flakes  present  no  traces  of  crystal- 
lization. 

"My  geography  says  it  never  rains  in  the  Great 
Desert  of  Sahara ;  what  is  the  reason  of  that  ? " 
inquired  Ronald. 

"  The  Sahara,"  replied  Marcus,  "  is  a  vast  ocean 
of  sand,  in  the  torrid  zone.  The  air  which  arises 
from  it  is  so  scorching  hot,  that  it  burns  up,  as  it 
were,  the  clouds  of  rain  that  blow  towards  it  from 
the  Mediterranean,  as  soon  as  they  come  within  its 
reach.  There  are  several  •  other  deserts  in  Africa, 
and  in  North  and  South  America.  Some  of  these 
are  cut  off  from  their  supply  of  rain  by  mountains. 
When  the  clouds  come  in  contact  with  a  chain  of 
high  mountains,  they  are  driven  up  their  sides,  into 
a  colder  region,  and  the  vapor  is  pretty  thoroughly 
wrung  out  of  them.  By  the  time  the  current  of 
wind  reaches  the  other  side  of  the  mountains,  the 
clouds  have  all  disappeared,  and  there  is  nothing 
left  but  a  cold,  dry  air.  That  explains  why  it  is 
that  there  is  a  desert  region  on  the  Avestern  coast 
of  South  America,  on  the  very  borders  of  the  Pa- 


BED-TIME.  127 

cific  Ocean.  The  eastern  sides  of  the  Andes  rob 
the  clouds  of  all  the  rain  brought  from  the  Atlan- 
tic by  the  trade  wind,  and  as  the  dry  wind  keeps 
on  its  course,  the  vapors  of  the  Pacific  are  driven 
back  to  the  ocean,  before  they  can  discharge  them- 
selves. Thus  there  is  a  paradise  on  one  side  of  the 
mountains,  and  a  desert  on  the  other." 

"  Five  minutes  of  nine,"  said  Mrs.  Page,  warn- 


"  Is  it  so  late  ?  "  inquired  Marcus.  "  "Well,  we 
will  have  a  bit  of  poetry  to  wind  up  with,  and  I 
will  appoint  Kate  to  read  it  aloud,  as  it  is  a  beauti- 
ful piece,  and  I'm  afraid  none  of  the  rest  of  us 
would  do  it  justice." 

"  O,  you  flatterer  !  "  exclaimed  Kate. 

"  No,  it  is  n't  flattery,  —  it  is  a  capital  poem,  if 
I  'm  any  judge,"  added  Marcus,  turning  over  the 
leaves  of  a  book  in  search  of  the  piece.  "  It  's  by 
Bryant  —  ah,  here  it  is.  Now,  Miss  Kate,  let  us 
hear  what  the  poet  says  about  rain,  so  that  we 
may  have  something  pleasant  to  dream  about,  when 
we  go  to  bed." 

Kate  took  the  book,  and  read  in  an  admirable 
manner  the  following  lines  :  — 


128  THE    POEM. 

A  RAIN  DREAM. 

BY  WILLIAM  CULLEN  BRYANT. 

THESE  strifes,  these  tumults  of  the  noisy  world, 
Where  Fraud,  the  coward,  tracks  his  prey  by  stealth, 
And  Strength,  the  ruffian,  glories  in  his  guilt, 
Oppress  the  heart  with  sadness.     Oh,  my  friend, 
In  what  serener  mood  we  look  upon 
The  gloomiest  aspects  of  the  elements 
Among  the  woods  and  fields !     Let  us  awhile, 
As  the  slow  wind  is  rolling  up  the  storm, 
In  fancy  leave  this  maze  of  dusty  streets, 
For  ever  shaken  by  the  importunate  jar 
Of  commerce,  and  upon  the  darkening  air 
Look  from  the  shelter  of  our  rural  home. 

"Who  is  not  awed  that  listens  to  the  Rain 
Sending  his  voice  before  him  ?     Mighty  Rain ! 
The  upland  steeps  are  shrouded  by  their  mists ; 
The  vales  are  gloomy  with  thy  shade  ;  the  pools 
No  longer  glimmer,  and  the  silvery  streams 
Darken  to  veins  of  lead  at  thy  approach. 
Oh,  mighty  Rain  !  already  thou  art  here ; 
And  every  roof  is  beaten  by  thy  streams, 
And  as  thou  passest,  every  glassy  spring 
Grows  rough,  and  every  leaf  in  all  the  woods 
Is  struck  and  quivers.     All  the  hilltops  slake 
Their  thirst  from  thee ;  a  thousand  languishing  fields, 
A  thousand  fainting  gardens  are  refreshed  ; 
A  thousand  idle  rivulets  start  to  speed, 
And  with  the  graver  murmur  of  the  storm 
Blend  their  light  voices,  as  they  hurry  on. 


THE    POEM.  129 

Thou  fill'st  the  circle  of  the  atmosphere 
Alone  ;  there  is  no  living  thing  abroad, 
No  bird  to  wing  the  air,  nor  beast  to  walk 
The  field ;  the  squirrel  in  the  forest  seeks 
His  hollow  tree ;  the  marmot  of  the  field 
Has  scampered  to  his  den ;  the  butterfly 
Hides  under  her  broad  leaf;  the  insect  crowds 
That  made  the  sunshine  populous,  lie  close 
In  their  mysterious  shelters,  whence  the  sun 
"Will  summon  them  again.     The  mighty  Rain 
Holds  the  vast  empire  of  the  sky  alone. 

I  shut  my  eyes,  and  see,  as  in  a  dream, 
The  friendly  clouds  drop  down  spring  violets 
And  summer  columbines,  and  all  the  flowers 
That  tuft  the  woodland  floor,  or  overarch 
The  streamlet :  —  spiky  grass  for  genial  June, 
Brown  harvests  for  the  waiting  husbandman, 
And  for  the  woods  a  deluge  of  fresh  leaves. 

I  see  these  myriad  drops  that  slake  the  dust, 
Gathered  in  glorious  streams,  or  rolling  blue 
In  billows  on  the  lake  or  on  the  deep, 
And  bearing  navies.     I  behold  them  change 
To  threads  of  crystal  as  they  sink  in  earth, 
And  leave  its  stains  behind,  to  rise  again 
In  pleasant  nooks  of  verdure,  where  the  child, 
Thirsty  with  play,  in  both  his  little  hands 
Shall  take  the  cool  clear  water,  raising  it 
To  wet  his  pretty  lips.     To-morrow  noon 
Ho-w  proudly  will  the  water-lily  ride 
The  brimming  pool,  o'erlooking,  like  a  queen, 
Her  circle  of  broad  leaves.    In  lonely  wastes, 


130  THE    POEM. 

When  next  the  sunshine  makes  them  beautiful, 
Gay  troops  of  butterflies  shall  light  to  drink 
At  the  replenished  hollows  of  the  rock. 

Now  slowly  falls  the  dull  blank  night,  and  still, 
All  through  the  starless  hours,  the  mighty  Rain 
Smites  with  perpetual  sound  the  forest  leaves, 
And  beats  the  matted  grass,  and  still  the  earth 
Drinks  the  unstinted  bounty  of  the  clouds, 
Drinks  for  her  cottage  wells,  her  woodland  brooks, 
Drinks  for  the  springing  trout,  the  toiling  bee 
And  brooding  bird,  drinks  for  her  tender  flowers, 
Tall  oaks,  and  all  the  herbage  of  her  hills 

A  melancholy  sound  is  in  the  air, 
A  deep  sigh  in  the  distance,  a  shrill  wail 
Around  my  dwelling.     'T  is  the  wind  of  night ; 
A  lonely  wanderer  between  earth  and  cloud, 
In  the  black  shadow  and  the  chilly  mist, 
Along  the  streaming  mountain  side,  and  through 
The  dripping  woods,  and  o'er  the  plashy  fields, 
Roaming  and  sorrowing  still,  like  one  who  makes 
The  journey  of  life  alone,  and  nowhere  meets 
A  welcome  or  a  friend,  and  still  goes  on 
In  darkness.     Yet  awhile,  a  little  while, 
And  he  shall  toss  the  glittering  leaves  in  play, 
And  dally  with  the  flowers,  and  gaily  lift 
The  slender  herbs,  pressed  low  by  weight  of  rain, 
And  drive,  in  joyous  triumph,  through  the  sky, 
White  clouds,  the  laggard  remnants  of  the  storm. 


CHAPTER  VIH. 

INSUBORDINATION. 

TT  was  a  cherished  opinion  with  Marcus,  that  the 
best  government  for  a  child  is  that  which 
teaches  him  to  govern  himself.  He  had  derived 
this  notion  from  his  mother  and  aunt,  both  of  whom, 
in  all  their  intercourse  with  the  young,  had  endeav- 
ored to  keep  it  in  mind.  Marcus  had  put  this  theory 
in  practice,  to  some  extent,  in  the  management  of 
Ronald,  and  not  without  success.  He  anticipated 
a  still  greater  triumph  of  this  principle,  however, 
with  Oscar,  whose  age,  and  peculiar  circumstances, 
seemed  favorable  to  the  experiment.  Accordingly, 
instead  of  fixing  metes  and  bounds  for  Oscar,  and 
hampering  him  with  set  rules  and  commands,  Mar- 
cus usually  made  known  his  wishes  in  the  form  of 
suggestions,  advice,  etc.,  taking  it  for  granted  that 


132  A    CHANGE     IN     O  S  C  A  K  . 

his  will,  plainly  declared,  would  be  regarded  as  law 
by  his  cousin.  And  so  it  was,  for  a  few  weeks. 
But  gradually  a  change  carae  over  Oscar.  He  still 
attended  faithfully  to  his  work  and  studies,  but 
began  to  manifest  some  impatience  of  control  in 
other  matters,  and  to  take  advantage  of  the  liberty 
accorded  to  him.  It  was  evident  that  he  was  fall- 
ing into  the  notion  that,  aside  from  his  stated  work 
and  his  lessons,  he  could  do  pretty  much  as  he 
pleased. 

Marcus  noticed  this  change  with  no  little  anxiety 
and  regret.  He  began  to  fear  that  he  should  be 
obliged  to  abandon  the  self-government  theory,  at 
least  with  Oscar.  He  kept  his  uneasiness  to  him- 
self for  a  time,  but  as  the  evil  manifestly  increased, 
he  at  length  broke  the  subject  to  his  mother.  It 
was  at  the  close  of  a  mild  October  afternoon.  Sup- 
per was  finished,  the  cows  were  milked,  and  as 
dusk  approached,  Oscar  was  seen  to  go  over  to- 
wards Mr.  Hapley's,  and  soon  after  re-appeared, 
with  Sam,  with  whom  he  walked  rapidly  towards 
the  village. 

"Mother,  how  do  you  think  Oscar  is  getting  on? 
Does  he  do  as  well  as  you  expected  ? "  inquired 


WISHES    DISREGARDED.  133 

Marcus,  as  he  entered  the  house,  after  observing 
his  cousin's  movements. 

"Why,  yes,  I  do  not  see  but  that  he  is  doing 
pretty  well,"  replied  Mrs.  Page.  "  He  works  bet- 
ter than  I  supposed  he  would,  and  he  gets  his  les- 
sons well,  too." 

"  But  do  n't  you  think  he  is  a  little  too  much 
inclined  to  have  his  own  way  ?  "  inquired  Marcus. 

"  I  have  suspected  it  was  so,"  replied  his  mother ; 
"  but  as  you  have  had  the  principal  management 
of  him,  you  can  judge  best  about  that." 

"  For  instance,"  resumed  Marcus,  "  I  gave  him  to 
understand,  when  he  first  came  here,  that  we  did  n't 
want  him  to  have  anything  to  do  with  Sam  Hap- 
ley." 

"  So  did  I,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Page. 

"  I  never  actually  forbade  him  to  associate  with 
Sam,"  continued  Marcus,  "  but  Oscar  knows  what 
he  is,  and  he  knows  better  than  to  go  with  him. 
And  yet  they  are  getting  quite  intimate.  They 
were  oif  together  nearly  all  the  afternoon,  yester- 
day, hunting  squirrels,,  as  Oscar  says ;  and  this 
evening  he  has  gone  off  with  him  again,  notwith- 
standing I  have  told  him  two  or  three  times  that 
12 


134  TOBACCO. 

•we  all  made  it  a  rule  not  to  be  away  from  home 
after  dark,  except  by  special  arrangement." 

"  I  told  him  the  same  thing,  the  last  evening  he 
was  out,"  added  Mrs.  Page. 

"  He  has  gone  contrary  to  my  wishes  in  several 
other  matters,"  resumed  Marcus.  "  There 's  to- 
bacco, for  one  thing.  I  am  satisfied  that  he  is  be- 
ginning to  use  it  again ;  you  know  he  formed  the 
habit  in  Boston." 

"  Yes,  but  I  hope  he  is  n't  sliding  into  it  again," 
said  Mrs.  Page. 

"  I  think  he  is,"  replied  Marcus ;  "  in  fact,  I  am 
very  certain  he  is,  for  I  have  smelt  tobacco  in  his 
breath,  several  times.  I  have  talked  to  him  about 
the  bad  effects  of  tobacco,  but  did  n't  let  him  know 
that  I  suspected  he  used  it.  Last  Saturday  I  wrote 
something  on  the  subject,  and  addressed  it  to  him, 
and  dropped  it  into  our  letter-box.  I  have  got  a 
copy  of  it  —  here  it  is." 

Marcus  took  from  his  pocket  a  note,  and  read  it 
aloud.  .As  it  may  possibly  interest  some  young 
reader  who  is  trying  to  cultivate  an  acquaintance 
with  tobacco,  it  is  here  given  entire. 


THE    LETTER.  135 

*.  "WHY   I   DON'T   LIKE   TOBACCO. 

"  It  does  a  man  no  good. 

"  It  is  a  powerful  poison. 

"It  is  injurious  to  the  health,  and  sometimes 
fatal  to  the  life,  especially  of  the  young. 

"It  weakens  and  injures  the  mind. 

"  It  begets  an  unnatural  and  burning  thirst,  which 
water  will  not  quench,  and  thus  prepares  the  way 
for  the  intoxicating  cup. 

"  It  makes  a  man  a  slave  to  its  use,  so  it  is  almost 
impossible  for  him  to  abandon  it,  after  a  few  years. 

"  It  is  offensive  to  all  who  do  not  use  it. 

"  It  is  a  letter  of  introduction  to  bad  associates. 

"  The  use  of  it  is  a  filthy  habit. 

"  It  is  an  expensive  habit. 

"  The  only  real  advantage  arising  from  the  use 
of  tobacco  that  I  ever  heard  of  happened  to  one 
of  a  party  of  sailors  who  were  wrecked  upon  the 
Feejee  islands.  The  savages  killed  and  cooked 
them  all,  anticipating  a  delightful  feast ;  but  one 
of  the  tars  tasted  so  strongly  of  tobacco,  that  they 
couldn't  eat  him,  and  so  he  escaped  a  burial  in 
their  stomachs.  As  I  intend  to  keep  clear  of  can- 
nibals, I  do  n't  think  this  solitary  fact  offers  me  any [ 
inducement  to  steep  and  pickle  myself  in  tobacco ; 
therefore  I  intend  to  remain  an 


136  MKS.  PAGE'S   DECISION. 

"  I  'm  afraid  it  did  n't  do  much  good,"  resumed 
Marcus,  somewhat  sadly.  "  I  smelt  tobacco  in  his 
breath  again  to-day." 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Page,  after  a  pause,  "  it  will 
never  do  to  let  him  go  on  in  this  way.  I  think  it 
will  be  necessary  to  tell  him  very  plainly  and  de- 
cidedly, that  if  he  will  not  restrain  himself,  we  must 
do  it  for  him.  One  or  the  other  he  must  submit 
to,  or  go  back  to  the  Reform  School,  and  the  sooner 
he  understands  this,  the  better  it  will  be  for  us  all." 

The  entrance  of  the  other  children  put  a  stop  to 
the  conversation  ;  but  Mrs.  Page's  last  remark  con- 
firmed the  conclusion  to  which  Marcus  had  already 
reluctantly  arrived,  and  left  him  no  longer  in  doubt 
as  to  the  proper  course  to  pursue. 

The  lamps  had  been  lit  nearly  an  hour  when 
Oscar  came  in,  that  evening.  Nothing  was  said  to 
him  about  his  absence  at  the  time ;  but  the  next 
day,  taking  him  alone,  Marcus  talked  long  and  ear- 
nestly to  him  about  the  course  he  was  pursuing, 
and  told  him  very  decidedly  that  he  could  go  on  in 
this  way  no  longer.  "  If  we  will  not  put  ourselves 
under  restraint,"  he  said,  "  others  must  do  it  for  us. 
It  is  so  in  society,  in  the  school,  in  the  family,  and 


SELF    GOVERNMENT.  137 

everywhere  else.  The  best  form  of  government 
is  self-government,  and  there  is  little  need  of  any 
other,  where  that  is ;  but  if  a  man  wont  practise 
that,  then  the  strong  arm  of  the  law  must  take  him 
in  hand,  and  compel  him  to  do  what  he  could  have 
done  much  more  pleasantly  of  his  own  free  will." 

Oscar  attempted  no  justification  of  himself,  nei- 
ther did  he  acknowledge  that  he  had  done  wrong. 
He  listened  in  silence  to  Marcus,  with  an  expres- 
sion upon  his  countenance  that  at  once  puzzled  and 
disappointed  the  latter.  It  were  difficult  to  say 
whether  shame,  sadness  or  sullenness  mingled  most 
largely  in  the  feelings  mirrored  in  his  face. 

There  was  a  marked  change  in  Oscar's  demeanor 
for  several  days  after  this  event,  though  not  pre- 
cisely such  a  change  as  Marcus  desired  to  see.  He 
was  silent,  and  carried  a  moody  and  sullen  look 
upon  his  face,  which  did  not  escape  the  notice  even 
of  the  children,  although  they  knew  nothing  of  its 
cause.  Marcus  treated  him  as  kindly  as  ever ;  but 
•>QW  he  longed  to  look  into  that  troubled  heart, 
and  read  the  thoughts  and  feelings  that  were  stir- 
ring its  depths ! 

About   this   time  a  new  wonder  suddenly  ap- 
12* 


138  THE     CIBCUS    BILL. 

pearcd  in  town.  Tlie  children  came  home  from 
school  with  glowing  accounts  of  a  mammoth  poster 
or  show-bill  exhibited  outside  of  the  post  office, 
and  covering  a  good  portion  of  one  side  of  the 
building.  It  was  printed  in  all  kinds  of  gay  col- 
ors, and  besprinkled  from  top  to  bottom  with 
pictures,  representing  men,  women  and  horses  per- 
forming all  manner  of  wonderful  feats.  They  also 
brought  home  some  small  bills  that  had  been  scat- 
tered among  the  children.  It  was  very  seldom 
that  a  circus  found  its  way  into  the  small  and 
secluded  village  of  Highburg,  but  it  was  pretty 
evident  that  one  was  coming  now,  "  for  one  day 
only,"  and  that  the  children  were  well-nigh  be- 
witched with  the  highly-colored  descriptions  of  the 
entertainment  given  by  the  great  poster. 

There  was  a  decided  drawing  down  of  faces,  when 
Mrs.  Page  informed  the  excited  group  that  she  did 
not  consider  the  circus  a  suitable  place  for  them  to 
visit,  and  could  not  consent  to  their  going.  Some 
of  them  were  even  disposed  to  question  her  posi- 
tion. 

"  Why,"  said  Otis,  "  mother  would  let  us  go,  if 

she  were  here." 

* 


OBJECTIONS     TO    THE     CIKCUS.        139 

"  I  do  not  know  about  that,"  replied  Mrs.  Page ; 
"  and  therefore  I  must  act  according  to  my  own 
judgment." 

"I  don't  see  what  harm  there  could  be  in  our 
going  just  once,"  remarked  Kate. 

"  We  ought  not  to  go  to  an  improper  place  even 
'just  once,' "  replied  Mrs.  Page.  "  Circus  perform- 
ers are  generally  a  low  class  of  men  and  women ; 
their  entertainments  are  low  and  degrading;  and 
the  dregs  of  the  community  usually  gather  around 
them.  Those  are  the  reasons  why  I  do  not  wish 
you  to  go  to  such  a  place." 

"You  Ve  been  to  the  circus,  have  n't  you,  Oscar ?'' 
inquired  Ronald. 

"  Yes,  I  have  been  a  good  many  times,"  replied 
Oscar. 

"And  you  agree  with  me,  in  your  opinion  of  it, 
do  n't  you  ?  "  inquired  Mrs.  Page. 

"I  don't  know  —  I  always  liked  to  go  pretty 
well,"  replied  Oscar. 

This  remark  gave  Mrs.  Page  much  uneasiness, 
and  she  took  the  first  opportunity,  when  Oscar  was 
alone,  to  caution  him  against  saying  anything  in 
the  presence  of  the  children  that  would  excite  their 


140  ARRIVAL    OF    THE    CIRCUS. 

desires  to  go  to  the  circus;  a  request  which  he  prom- 
ised to  comply  with. 

The  circus  paraded  through  the  town  on  the  ap- 
pointed morning,  with  its  wagon-load  of  noisy 
horn-blowers  and  drum-beaters,  and  its  procession 
of  fancy  carriages  and  fine  horses.  The  great  tent 
was  pitched,  in  the  presence  of  all  the  idlers  of  the 
village,  and  in  due  time  the  door  was  opened  to  the 
public,  and  the  performance  commenced. 

Oscar  finished  his  work  and  lessons  as  early  as 
possible,  in  the  afternoon,  and  then  quietly  slipped 
away  from  home,  without  the  knowledge  of  any 
one.  He  turned  his  steps  towards  the  village,  where 
the  circus  was  encamped.  He  wished  merely  to 
see  what  was  going  on,  and  did  not  intend  to  ven- 
ture within  the  tent,  since  his  aunt  Avas  so  strongly 
opposed  to  such  places  of  amusement.  On  reach- 
ing the  circus  grounds,  he  found  a  motley  crowd 
assembled,  composed  chiefly  of  young  men  and 
half-grown  boys,  with  a  sprinkling  of  women  and 
young  children.  There  were  few  representatives 
of  the  better  class  of  the  population  to  be  seen ; 
but  that  marvel  of  laziness,  old  'Siah  Stebbins,  was 
there,  leaning  against  a  fence,  with  his  hands  in  his 


WHO     WEEK     THERE. 


141 


pockets ;  and  so  was  Gavett,  the  man  who  once 
served  three  months  in  the  county  jail  for  stealing 
wood ;  and  so  were  poor  Silly  John,  the  pauper, 
and  Tim  Hallard,  the  drunkard,  and  Dick  Adams, 
the  loafer  par  excellence,  and  little  Bob  Gooden, 
swaggering  about  with  a  cigar  in  his  mouth,  and 
Sam  Hapley,  swearing  faster  than  ever,  and  his 
brother  Henry,  eagerly  taking  lessons  in  vice.  All 
these  were  on  the  field,  and  others  of  like  charac- 
ter. Some  of  the  boys  were  mimicking  perform- 
ances they  had  witnessed  inside  the  tent — turning 
somersets,  standing  on  their  hands,  leaping,  twisting 
their  bodies  into  unaccountable  shapes,  etc. 

Two  donkeys  belong- 
ing to  the  circus,  mounted 
by  boys,  were  driven 
around  the  field  at  a  fu- 
rious pace.  A  donkey 
being  a  novel  sight  to 
most  of  the  people,  the 
race  attracted  much  at- 
tention from,  the  outsid- 
ers, and  served  admirably  to  tole  them  into  the 
enclosure  —  the  object  intended. 


142  AN     UNEXPECTED     3IEETING. 

As  Oscar  was  sauntering  about,  he  came  unex- 
pectedly upon  Otis,  who,  with  several  others  of  the 
academy  boys,  hastened  over  to  the  circus,  as  soon 
as  dismissed,  "  to  see  what  was  going  on." 

"  "What,  are  you  here  ?  I  thought  aunt  told  you 
to  go  right  home  when  school  was  dismissed,"  said 
Oscar. 

"  I  'm  going  right  home,"  replied  Otis,  adding,  to 
himself,  "I  rather  think  I've  just  as  good  a  right 
here  as  you  have." 

A  moment  after,  as  Otis  was  still  standing  by 
the  side  of  Oscar,  there  came  along  a  boy  about 
the  age  of  the  latter,  foppishly  dressed,  and  with  a 
bold  face  and  a  careless,  swaggering  air.  His  eyes 
met  Oscar's,  and  there  was  an  instant  recognition. 

"  What,  is  that  you,  Alf ! "  exclaimed  Oscar. 

"  Halloo,  Oscar,  is  that  you ! "  cried  the  other. 

"How  came  you  here  —  do  you  belong  to  the 
circus  ?  "  inquired  Oscar. 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  other ;  "  but  how  came  you 
here  ?  I  thought  you  were  in  the  house  of  correc- 
tion, or  some  such  place.  How  did  you  get  out  of 
that  last  scrape,  say?  O,  I  remember,  they  sent 
you  to  the  Reform  School,  didn't  they?" 


ALFRED     WALTON.  143 

Oscar,  confused  and  distressed  by  this  unexpected 
exposure,  made  signs  to  the  other  to  desist,  and 
attempted  to  turn  off  the  affair  as  a  joke.  The 
strange  remark  of  the  strange  boy,  however,  at- 
tracted the  attention  of  Otis  and  several  others  of 
•Oscar's  acquaintances  who  were  standing  by,  and 
set  them  to  wondering. 

The  real  name  of  Oscar's  new-found  acquaintance 
was  Alfred  Walton,  but  he  figured  on  the  circus 
bills  as  "Master  Paulding."  For  years  the  two 
boys  lived  near  each  other,  in  Boston,  and  had  been 
very  intimate,  their  tastes  and  habits  being  much 
alike.  The  hotel  and  stables  kept  by  Alfred's  step- 
father had  been  one  of  Oscar's  favorite  resorts,  and 
there  he  learned  many  of  the  bad  lessons  which  he 
was  now  trying  to  forget.  He  had  heard  nothing 
from  Alfred  for  a  long  time,  but  now  learned  from 
him  that  he  quarrelled  with  his  step-father  and  ran 
away  from  home  five  or  six  months  previous,  and 
being  familiar  with  horses,  had  since  followed  the 
career  of  a  circus  rider. 

"And  look  here,"  added  Alfred,  taking  Oscar 
aside,  "  if  you  want  a  chance,  I  '11  speak  a  good 
word  for  you  to  the  old  man.  I  should  n't  wonder 


144  AN    OFFER. 

if  he  would  take  you  on  trial  —  I  bet  I  can  put  him 
up  to  it.  We  Ve  got  a  good  company  —  they  are 
a  high  old  set  of  fellows,  I  tell  you." 

"O  no,  I  can't  join  you  —  I've  engaged  to  stay 
here  two  or  three  years,"  replied  Oscar 

"  Pooh,  never  mind  that  —  you  can  slip  off  easily 
enough,  just  as  I  did,"  said  Alfred,  who  seemed  to 
have  no  idea  that  any  thing  but  force  could  hold  a 
person  to  an  engagement  with  which  he  was  dis- 
satisfied. 

"  But  I  do  n't  want  to  slip  off —  I  like  here,  well 
enough,"  added  Oscar. 

"  Then  you  must  have  altered  amazingly,  if  you 
can  content  yourself  in  such  a  horribly  dull  hole 
as  this,"  rejoined  Alfred.  "  Why,  I  'd  hang  myself 
before  I  'd  stay  here  three  weeks.  Come,  you  like 
to  see  the  world  as  well  as  the  rest  of  us  do.  Say 
you'll  go,  and  I'll  speak  to  the  old  man.  He'll 
give  you  twelve  or  fifteen  dollars  a  month,  as  soon 
as  you  get  broke  in  a  little.  That 's  better  than 
you  can  do  here,  I  know.  What  do  you  get  now, 
any  how  ?  " 

"I  don't  have  wages  —  father  pays  my  board, 
and  I  'm  going  to  school  this  winter,"  replied  Oscar. 


OSCAR    PEESSED    IN.  145 

"  "Well,  I  should  think  yoji  'cl  rather  be  your  own 
man,  and  have  a  chance  to  see  the  world,  than 
be  cooped  up  in  the  woods  here,  two  or  three  years," 
added  Alfred.  "But  come  in,  or  you  wont  get  a 
sent  —  performances  begin  in  five  minutes,"  he 
added,  drawing  out  a  watch,  to  which  was  attached 
a  flashy  chain. 

"  No,  I  did  n't  intend  to  go  in  —  the  folks  wont 
know  where  I  am,"  replied  Oscar. 

"  Yes,  you  are  going  in,  too  —  it  wont  cost  you 
anything — I  '11  put  you  through,"  said  Alfred,  push- 
ing Oscar  towards  the  door. 

Oscar  was  unable  to  withstand  the  pressing  invi- 
tation of  his  old  comrade,  and  suffered  himself  to 
be  led  into  the  enclosure,  wyhere  he  remained 
through  the  entire  performance,  which  did  not  close 
until  nearly  dark.  His  prolonged  absence  was  no- 
ticed at  home,  and  led  to  unpleasant  suspicions; 
but  as  Otis  remained  silent,  for  fear  of  exposing 
himself,  nothing  definite  was  known  of  his  where- 
abouts. 

Oscar  hurried  home  with  many  misgivings,  after 
the  exhibition  had  concluded,  and  was  agreeably 

surprised  to  find  the  supper  table  still  standing  for 
13 


146  CALLED     TO    ACCOUNT. 

him,  and  was  yet  more  gratified  that  no  questions 
were  asked  in  relation  to  his  absence.  When  he 
went  up  to  bed,  however,  Marcus  accompanied  him 
to  his  chamber,  and  the  following  conversation  took 
place :  — 

"  Oscar,  where  have  you  been  this  afternoon  ?  " 

"  Over  to  the  circus." 

"  Did  you  go  in,  or  only  remain  outside  ?  " 

"  I  went  in." 

"I  am  very  sorry  to  hear  it,  and  surprised  too. 
You  knew  it  was  much  against  our  wishes,  did  you 
not?" 

Oscar  made  no  reply. 

"You  knew  neither  mother  nor  I  would  haA'e 
consented  to  your  going  to  such  a  place,  did  you 
not?"  continued  Marcus. 

"  I  supposed  you  would  n't." 

"Then  why  did  you  go?  Do  you  intend  to  pay 
any  regard  to  our  wishes,  or  do  you  mean  to  have 
your  own  way  in  everything  ?  " 

Oscar  remained  silent. 

"Do  yon  remember  what  I  said  to  you  a  few 
days  ago,  about  your  behavior  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir." 


THE    PUNISHMENT.  147 

"  Well,  I  suppose  all  it  is  necessary  for  me  to  say 
now,  is,  that  I  intend  to  abide  strictly  by  what  I 
said  at  that  time.  Your  going  to  the  circus  was  to 
all  intents  an  act  of  wilful  disobedience,  and  as  a 
punishment,  I  shall  have  to  declare  you  a  prisoner 
for  the  rest  of  the  week." 

Oscar  did  not  appear  much  pleased  with  this  an- 
nouncement, and  something  like  an  expression  of 
anger  flitted  across  his  countenance,  but  he  made 
no  reply. 

"I  do  not  intend  to  make  you  a  close  prisoner," 
continued  Marcus.  "  I  shall  let  you  go  on  parole, 
if  you  agree  to  that  arrangement.  I  suppose  you 
know  what  that  means." 

"  It  means  that  I  can  go  at  large,  if  I  '11  agree  not 
to  go  off,"  said  Oscar. 

"Yes,"  replied  Marcus,  "you  have  the  idea. 
When  a  prisoner  of  war  is  released  on  parole,  he 
gives  his  word  of  honor  tnat  he  will  riot  go  beyond 
certain  fixed  limits,  and  that  he  will  not  take  part 
in  any  hostile  act.  As  we  are  not  at  war,  we  can 
dispense  with  the  latter  part  of  the  bargain.  All 
I  shall  require  is,  that  you  will  give  me  your  word 
of  honor  not  to  go  beyond  certain  limits  I  shall 


148  THE    PAROLE. 

name,  without  special  leave  from  me,  during  the 
rest  of  this  week.     You  can  have  your  choice  be- 
tween this,  and  being  kept  a  close  prisoner  in  the 
house.    Which  do  you  choose  ?  " 
"  To  go  on  parole." 

* 

"  And  do  you  give  your  word  of  honor  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Well,  you  may  consider  yourself  on  parole, 
from  this  time,"  added  Marcus,  and  he  mentioned 
the  limits  beyond  which  he  was  not  to  pass. 

"Supposing  I  should  go  beyond  the  limits  — 
what  then  ? "  inquired  Oscar,  who  was  beginning 
to  regard  the  deprivation  with  curiosity  rather  than 
displeasure. 

"  I  can  suppose  no  such  thing,"  replied  Marcus. 
"  The  parole  system  takes  it  for  granted  that  when 
a  man  deliberately  gives  his  word  of  honor  that  he 
will  do  a  certain  thing,  he  will  regard  his  promise 
as  sacred  and  inviolable,  come  what  may.  If  it 
were  not  so,  there  would  be  an  end  to  the  parole, 
very  quick.  1  believe  it  seldom  happens  that  a  man 
is  found  base  enough  to  abuse  the  parole.  I  read 
an  account  a  few  days  ago,  however,  in  the  Life  of 
Napoleon,  of  some  soldiers  who  broke  th^ir  parole, 


BREAKING     THE     PAROLE.  149 

but  they  were  Turks.  During  one  of  Napoleon's 
campaigns  in  Syria,  he  captured  ten  or  twelve  hun- 
dred Turkish  troops,  and  released  them  on  parole. 
Soon  after,  they  were  again  taken  prisoners,  while 
defending  a  city.  A  council  of  war  was  held,  and 
after  considering  the  matter  three  days,  it  was 
unanimously  decided  that  the  prisoners  must  die. 
Accordingly  they  were  led  out  in  small  groups  and 
shot ;  and  it  is  said  that  the  pyramid  of  their  bones 
remains  in  the  desert  to  this  day.  But  this  is  a 
very  rare  case,  and  I  shall  take  it  for  granted  that 
you  will  keep  your  promise.  In  fact,  I  have  so  lit- 
tle doubt  of  it,  that  I  shall  not  watch  you  in  the 
least,  nor  take  any  pains  to  find  out  where  you  go. 
If  you  go  outside  of  the  limits,  I  probably  shall 
not  knoAv  it,  unless  I  discover  it  accidentally." 

"  Well,  you  may  depend  on  my  keeping  within 
the  bounds,  unless  I  should  forget  myself,"  replied 
Oscar. 

Oscar  faithfully  kept  his  parole,  through  the  two 
remaining  days  of  the  week.  Under  the  kind  and 
forbearing  yet  firm  treatment  he  had  received  from 
Marcus,  his  feelings  now  began  to  relent,  somewhat, 

and,  desj^te  the  mitigating  circumstances  in  the 
13* 


150  KELENTINGS. 

case,  which  he  had  not  explained  to  any  one,  he 
felt  some  reproaches  of  conscience  for  the  course 
he  had  pursued.  On  Saturday  afternoon,  he  half 
resolved  to  acknowledge  his  fault  to  Marcus,  freely 
and  frankly,  and  ask  forgiveness;  but  when  the 
opportunity  came  to  do  so,  a  false  pride  overcame 
the  better  promptings  of  his  heart,  and  stifled  the 
words  that  were  trembling  on  his  lips.  The  quick 
eye  of  Marcus,  however,  perceived  that  a  change 
had  been  wrought  in  the  feelings  of  his  pupil,  and 
greatly  did  he  rejoice  at  it. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

CORRESPONDENCE. 

"Excelsior  Letter- writing  Society"  had 
now  been  in  operation  several  weeks,  and  had 
thus  far  proved  a  popular  and  useful  institution. 
The  letter-box  was  regularly  patronized  by  all  its 
members,  but  one  of  them  having  brought  upon 
himself  the  dire  penalty  of  exclusion  from  it,  and 
he  for  only  a  single  day.  I  do  not  intend  to  expose 
the  delinquent,  but  justice  requires  me  to  say  it 
was  neither  Oscar  nor  Ronald.  The  letters  which 
passed  through  the  domestic  post  office  were  as 
various  as  the  writers  and  their  moods.  Some  were 
long,  and  some  brief;  some  serious,  and  others 
funny.  There  were  letters  advisory,  admonitory, 
commendatory,  critical,  mysterious,  romantic,  and 
quizzical ;  but  none  that  were  disrespectful  or  un- 


152  o  SCAB'S  LETTER. 

kind,  care  having  been  taken  to  guard  against  these 
faults. 

A  few  days  after  the  events  narrated  in  the  pre- 
ceding chapter,  Marcus  received  a  letter  which  af- 
forded him  peculiar  gratification.  It  was  from 
Oscar,  and  was  as  follows : 

"Nov.  6th,  185-. 

"  DEAR  MARCUS,  —  I  think  you  would  not  have 
blamed  me  so  much  as  you  did  for  going  to  the 
circus,  last  Thursday,  if  you  had  known  all  the  cir- 
cumstances. I  did  not  intend  to  go  inside,  when  I 
went  over  to  the  village ;  but  I  met  a  boy  there 
named  Alfred  Walton,  that  I  used  to  be  very  inti- 
mate with  in  Boston.  He  belongs  to  the  company, 
and  tried  to  persuade  me  to  join  them,  but  I  told 
him  I  did  not  wish  to.  Then  he  insisted  upon  my 
going  in,  and  would  not  take  no  for  an  answer. 
He  got  me  inside  the  tent,  before  I  could  get  away 
from  him.  He  told  the  doorkeeper  I  was  his  friend, 
and  he  let  me  in  without  paying.  I  am  very  sorry 
I  went  near  the  circus  at  all ;  but  I  could  not  very 
well  help  going  in,  after  I  saw  Alfred. 

"  I  must  tell  you  about  another  thing  that  has 
troubled  me  a  good  deal.  Alfred  was  mean  or 
thoughtless  enough  to  plague  me  about  being  sen- 
tenced to  the  Reform  School,  right  before  Otis  and 


THE    REPLY.  153 

several  other  boys  that  know  me.  I  turned  it  off 
as  well  as  I  could,  but  Otis  has  spoken  to  me  about 
it  since,  and  I  am  afraid  he  thinks  there  is  some- 
thing in  it.  I  had  to  tell  him  what  I  suppose  some 
people  would  call  'a  white  lie,'  to  get  rid  of  him. 
I  don't  see  how  I  can  keep  the  thing  from  coming 
out,  unless  I  lie  right  up  and  down  about  it. 

"I  have  thought  much  lately  of  what  you 
said  about  self-government.  I  like  your  ideas,  and 
I  mean  to  try  to  put  them  in  practice.  If  you 
could  give  me  any  hints  that  would  help  me  in  mak- 
ing the  experiment,  I  should  be  very  thankful. 

"Yours  truly,  OSCAR." 

To  this  letter,  Marcus  replied  as  follows,  at  his 
earliest  convenience  : 


,  Nov.  7,  J85-. 

"DEAR  Cousin  OSCAR,  —  I  have  not  received 
a  more  welcome  letter  for  many  a  day,  than  yours 
of  yesterday.  The  extenuating  circumstances  you 
mention,  in  regard  to  your  visit  to  the  circus, 
change  my  opinion  of  that  act  very  much,  as  you 
may  well  suppose  ;  for  I  thought  you  went  deliber- 
ately, and  of  your  own  choice.  You  ought  to  have 
explained  this  before,  and  I  wonder  that  you  did 
not.  Still,  I  do  not  think  this  plea  wholly  excuses 
you,  unless  you  were  actually  forced  in,  which  I 


154  SELF-GOVEKNMENT. 

suppose  you  do  not  pretend ;  and  even  in  that  case, 
you  need  not  have  remained  in,  after  Alfred  left 
you.  Sol  must  still  believe  that  you  were  to  some 
extent  blameworthy,  first,  for  putting  yourself  in 
the  way  of  temptation  by  going  to  the  circus 
grounds ;  and  secondly,  for  yielding  to  the  coaxings 
of  your  old  friend.  I  am  glad  you  see  your  error, 
and  are  sorry  for  it. 

"  As  to  keeping  certain  parts  of  your  history  se- 
cret, I  do  not  think  it  a  matter  of  so  much  impor- 
tance as  you  probably  do.  If  you  behave  well  now, 
and  for  the  future,  these  errors  will  soon  be  forgot- 
ten; but  if  they  cannot  be  concealed  without 
falsehood,  I  would  not  attempt  to  hide  them.  I 
would  rather  acknowledge  the  facts  to  Otis,  and 
appeal  to  his  honor  and  generosity  to  keep  them 
secret.  I  think  he  would  not  betray  you. 

"I  am  rejoiced  to  learn  that  you  mean  to  govern 
yourself.  I  wish  I  could  help  you  in  this  noble 
work.  You  must  imagine  yourself  a  governor,  ap- 
pointed over  a  province.  Your  subjects  are  the 
various  powers  of  your  mind,  the  qualities  of  your 
heart,  your  habits,  tastes,  affections,  etc.  It  is  taken 
for  granted  that  you  know  something  of  the  law 
you  are  to  administer.  The  Bible  and  your  con- 
science will  give  you  all  the  instruction  you  need 
on  this  point.  The  next  thing  to  be  done,  is  to 


AN     ILLUSTRATION.  155 

make  yourself  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  peo- 
ple of  your  little  province.  Who  are  they  ?  What 
is  their  character  ?  Are  they  a  hard  set  to  govern, 
or  the  contrary  ?  How  can  you  best  manage  them  ? 
This  is  self-examination,  and  without  it,  we  can 
neither  know  ourselves,  nor  govern  ourselves. 
Well,  after  we  understand  pretty  well  what  kind 
of  subjects  we  have  got  to  deal  with,  the  next  thing 
is  to  apply  the  law  to  them,  firmly,  vigorously,  with 
unwearied  watchfulness,  and  with  a  determination 
to  conquer  them.  We  must  persevere  in  this  until 
we  accomplish  our  purpose,  and  our  rule  in  our 
own  little  household  is  securely  established. 

"Let  me  give  you  a  familiar  illustration.  In 
looking  over  the  little  inner  kingdom  I  am  called 
to  rule,  we  will  suppose  that  I  find  one  subject  that 
has  proved  quite  troublesonle.  His  real  name  is 
Laziness,  but  we  will  call  him  by  his  polite  name, 
Mr.  Ease.  I  can  see  very  plainly,  as  I  examine  the 
past,  that  I  owe  to  him  a  great  many  wasted  hours 
and  opportunities,  and  a  great  many  good  things 
not  done.  Well,  one  cold  winter  morning,  I  aston- 
ish Mr.  Ease  very  much  by  informing  him,  before 
my  eyes  are  fairly  open,  that  I  intend  to  rise  in- 
stanter.  This  is  something  very  strange,  and  he 
begins  to  expostulate,  and  to  plead  for  a  few  mo- 
ments more  in  the  warm  bed  j  but  before  he  can 


156  ME.    EASE    AND    I. 

finish  his  plea,  I  am  up,  and  half  dressed.  '  You 
are  not  going  to  make  the  fire  —  your  mother  can 
do  that,'  says  Ease,  as  I  go  into  the  kitchen  ;  '  But 
I  am  going  to  make  it,'  I  reply,  and  at  it  I  go,  at 
once.  Then  I  go  out  to  the  barn,  and  see  to  the 
stock;  but  before  the  morning  work  is  half  done, 
Mr.  Ease  says,  in  his  blandest  voice,  '  Come,  go  into 
the  house,  and  warm  yourself,  and  get  ready  for 
breakfast.  This  is  cold  work  —  let  the  boys  finish 
it.'  I  pay  no  attention  to  his  advice,  but  keep 
about  my  work  until  it  is  done,  and  have  all  the 
better  appetite  for  my  breakfast,  for  doing  so.  Af- 
ter that  meal,  Mr.  Ease  kindly  reminds  me  that  I 
have  not  read  the  magazine  that  came  yesterday, 
and  suggests  that  I  might  spend  an  hour  very  com- 
fortably with  it  in  the  chimney  corner,  on  such  a 
cold  morning.  But  I  tell  him  it  is  a  clear,  bright 
day,  and  there  is  plenty  of  work  to  do,  and  at  it  I 
go,  without  further  parley.  After  dinner,  Mr. 
Ease  again  intrudes  himself,  in  his  blandest  way. 
4  Come,'  he  says,  '  you  've  worked  hard  all  the  fore- 
noon, now  put  the  horse  into  the  sleigh  and  have  a 
ride ;  the  afternoon  is  fine,  and  the  sleighing  excel- 
lent.' '  Ah,  yes,  the  sleighing  is  good,'  I  reply ;  '  I 
think  I'll  improve  it  by  hauling  a  load  or  two  of 
wood,  and  take  the  ride  some  other  time.' 

"  So  I  keep  '  snubbing '  this  Mr.  Ease,  as  coolly  as 


THE     VICTORY.  157 

you  please,  day  after  day.  Finding  he  is  losing  his 
power  over  me,  he  grows  shy  and  glum,  and  slinks 
away,  and  at  length  I  hear  but  very  little  from  him. 
He  is  conquered.  And  if  I  find  any  other  upstarts 
or  usurpers  in  my  dominions,  I  serve  them  in  the 
same  way.  If  I  can't  snub  them  into  submission, 
as  I  did  Mr.  Ease,  I  just  seize  them  firmly  by  the 
throat,  and  choke  them  down.  That  is  the  way  I 
served  Mr.  Anger. 

"  To  do  all  this,  you  must  rely  upon  principle, 
not  impulse.  You  must  form  a  fixed  purpose  to 
govern  yourself,  and  adhere  to  it,  through  thick 
and  thin.  You  must  also  be  willing  to  submit  to 
some  self-denial  and  sacrifice.  Don 't  be  frightened 
at  those  words.  They  look  like  bugbears,  but  after 
all,  they  are  at  the  root  of  all  our  happiness.  Al- 
most our  first  and  last  experience  of  life  is  that  of 
desires  denied.  From  infancy  to  old  age,  we  are 
daily  and  almost  hourly  called  to  sacrifice  a  lesser 
for  a  greater  good  ;  and  until  we  yield  cheerfully  to 
this  great  law,  we  have  not  learned  to  live,  nor 
have  we  known  true  happiness.  Self-indulgence 
and  ease  make  puny,  vicious  and  unhappy  men. 
Self-control  and  self-denial  make  strong  and  noble 
souls  —  the  master  spirits  that  rule  the  world. 

"I  will  add  but  one  thought  more.  However 
painful  the  efibrtat  self-government  may  be,  at  first, 
14 


158  MOBE    LETTERS. 

the  power  of  habit  will  gradually  render  the  work 
easy,  until  at  length  it  will  actually  become  a  plea- 
sure. 

"  Wishing  you  much  success  in  your  good  pur- 
pose, I  remain 

"  Your  affectionate  cousin, 

"  MAKCUS." 

It  was  not  often  that  so  long  and  formal  a  letter 
as  this  found  its  way  into  the  family  post  office. 
Most  of  the  missives  exchanged  between  the  mem- 
bers of  the  society,  were  brief  notes,  a  few  speci- 
mens of  which  are  given  : 

"MARCUS  PAGE,  ESQ.  —  Dear  Sir,  —  I  propose 
that  we  take  the  hay-cart,  Saturday  afternoon,  and 
all  hands  go  off  after  nuts.  What  say  you  to  the 

plan  ? 

"  Yours  truly,  OTIS. 

"  Oct.  25th." 

"  O,  fie,  Ronald  !  how  could  you  say, '  I  intended 
to  have  wrote ! '  It  is  perfectly  barbarous.  '  I  in- 
tended to  have  written,'  is  what  you  shoiild  have 
said.  '  I  got  my  lessons '  is  bad,  too ;  you  mean 
you  learned  your  lessons.  Please  put  two  t's  in  re- 
gretted, next  time,  and  write  Friday  with  a  capital 
F.  But  I  Won't  play  the  critic  any  more,  just  now, 


THE     CBITIC     CRITICISED.  159 

for  fear  you  might  banish  from  your  list  of  corres- 
pondents 

"  Your  faithful  friend,  KATE. 

"  Nov.  2." 

To  this  note  Kate  received  the  following  reply, 
the  next  day : 

"  O,  fie,  Kate  !  how  could  you  say, '  I  intended  to 
have  written ! '  It  is  perfectly  barbarous.  '  I  in- 
tended to  icrite '  is  what  you  should  have  said.  If 
you  don't  believe  me,  I  can  show  you  the  rule  in 
the  grammar.  Don't  be  afraid  to  'play  the  critic' 
—  I  like  to  have  you  do  it ! 

"  Yours  in  fun,  HON. 

"Nov.  3." 

Ronald  was  not  accustomed  to  take  things  upon 
trust,  especially  from  one  near  his  own  age,  when 
he  could  conveniently  verify  their  truth  for  himself. 
This  habit  led  him  to  investigate  the  blunders 
pointed  out  by  Kate,  and  the  result  was,  that  he 
was  able  to  convict  his  critic  of  a  serious  grammat- 
ical error  —  a  "  turning  of  the  tables  "  which  he  en- 
joyed with  a  roguish  zest.  Kate  did  not  need  to 
consult  the  grammar,  to  satisfy  herself  in  regard  to 
the  error ;  for  she  at  once  recalled  to  mind  the  rule 
she  had  learned :  "  All  verbs  expressive  of  hope,  de- 


160  AN    APOLOGY. 

sire,  intention,  or  command,  must  invariably  be  fol- 
lowed by  the  present,  and  not  the  perfect  of  the 
infinitive." 

The  post  office  sometimes  served  as  a  medium 
through  which  an  uneasy  conscience  sought  relief, 
as  in  the  following :  — 

"  HIGHBURG,  Oct.  26th. 

"DEAR  Miss  LEE,  —  I  don't  know  what  you 
think  of  me,  for  speaking  to  you  so  rudely,  last 
evening.  I  was  only  in  fun,  of  course,  but  I  sup- 
pose I  earned  it  too  far.  I  was  sorry  for  it  a  min- 
ute after.  I  hope  you  will  excuse  me,  this  time, 
and  I  will  be  more  careful  in  future. 

"  Ever  yours, 

KATE." 

Kate,  in  a  merry  mood,  had  rallied  Miss  Lee  upon 
her  state  of  singleness,  applying  to  her  the  epithet, 
"old  maid,"  and  using  other  expressions  that  were 
not  quite  proper,  considering  the  differences  be- 
tween their  ages ;  hence  this  apology.  Miss  Lee, 
it  should  be  added,  was  loved  and  esteemed  none 
the  less  by  those  who  knew  her,  because  of  the  pe- 
culiarity of  which  Kate  made  sport.  She  was  an 
especial  favorite  with  the  children  of  the  family,  and 


AUNT    FANNY.  161 

her  pleasant  words  and  looks,  her  obliging  disposi- 
tion, her  sound  advice,  her  clear  explanations  of 
school  lesson  and  other  mysteries,  her  inexhaustible 
fund  of  anecdote  and  story,  and  not  least,  the  beau- 
tiful productions  of  her  pencil  and  brush,  constituted 
an  attraction  which  all  felt  and  acknowledged.  She 
had  spent  many  years  in  teaching,  but  had  now  re- 
linquished the  profession.  Her  services  as  an  ar- 
tist were  highly  appreciated  by  the  children,  who 
coaxed  many  a  pretty  drawing  or  painting  from 
her  portfolio.  Her  letters  were  eagerly  sought  for, 
as  they  sometimes  contained  the  fruits  of  her  pencil, 
as  well  as  of  her  pen.  Here  is  one  of  them :  — 

"Nov.  4. 

"  DE AE  OTIS,  —  Enclosed  I  send  the  drawing  of 
the  four  dogs,  which  you  wished  me  to  make  for 
your  little  brother.  When  you  forward  it  to  him, 
you  had  better  call  his  attention  to  the  dotted  lines, 
otherwise  he  might  not  understand  the  design  of 
the  picture.  If  he  should  get  a  piece  of  tracing  pa- 
per, he  might  easily  make  for  himself  a  separate 
copy  of  each  of  the  four  dogs.  I  have  not  had  a 
letter  from  you  yet.  Won't  my  turn  come  soon  ? 
"  Your  friend  sincere, 

«  FANNY." 

14* 


162 


THE    FOUR    DOGS. 


Here  is  a  copy  of  the  picture  enclosed  in  this 
letter : 


Thus  did  the  domestic  post  office  serve  alike  to 
entertain  the  younger  members  of  the  family,  and 
to  educate  their  minds  and  hearts.  Its  novelty  had 
not  yet  begun  to  wear  off,  and  it  was  regarded  by 
all  as  one  of  the  established  institutions  of  the 
family. 


CHAPTER  X. 

A    WOUNDED     CONSCIENCE. 

Tl/TRS.  PAGE  and  Marcus  were  riding  in  the  out- 
skirts of  the  town,  one  afternoon,  when  they 
stopped  a  few  moments  at  the  door  of  an  acquaint- 
ance—  a  lady  named  Blake.  She  was  a  widow, 
and  had  a  large  family  of  children.  One  of  them, 
a  girl  named  Ellen,  was  standing  near  the  horse, 
when  her  mother  remarked  — 

"  I  wish  I  could  find  a  place  for  Ellen,  this  win- 
ter. If  she  could  n't  earn  anything  more  than  her 
board,  it  would  be  better  than  nothing." 

"How  old  are  you,  Ellen?  "  inquired  Marcus. 

"  Thirteen  last  spring,"  replied  the  girl. 

"  Do  you  want  to  go  away  to  live  ?  "  asked  Mrs. 
Page. 

"  I  do  n't  know,"  replied  Ellen,  with  considerable 
hesitation. 


164  A     SUGGESTION. 

"No,  she  would  rather  stay  at  home,"  interposed 
her  mother ;  "  but  I  think  she  is  getting  old  enough 
to  do  something  for  herself.  She  could  make  her- 
self quite  useful  to  any  one,  if  she  tried." 

"  So  I  should  suppose,"  said  Mrs.  Page.  "  Per- 
haps I  can  think  of  some  one  who  would  like  to 
take  her  this  winter  —  I  will  let  you  know,  if  I  do." 

"Mother,"  said  Marcus,  on  their  way  home, 
"  would  n't  it  be  a  good  plan  for  you  to  take  Ellen 
to  help  you,  this  winter?  Our  family  is  so  large, 
now,  that  I  think  you  and  Aunt  Fanny  ought  to 
have  some  help.  Ellen  could  make  the  beds,  and 
set  the  table,  and  wash  the  dishes,  and  do  a  good 
deal  of  other  work.  Mrs.  Lane  says  she  is  quite 
handy  about  housework.  She  had  the  whole  man- 
agement of  the  family  affairs  nearly  a  fortnight, 
last  summer,  when  her  mother  was  sick." 

Mrs.  Page  did  not  then  make  any  very  definite 
reply  to  this  proposition,  although  the  same  idea 
had  occurred  to  herself,  when  Mrs.  Blake  spoke  of 
Ellen.  After  thinking  and  talking  the  matter  over 
for  a  few  days,  and  making  the  necessary  inquiries 
about  Ellen,  it  was  decided  that  she  might  come 
to  live  with  them  for  the  winter,  if  she  chose.  Mar- 


THE     SCHOOL    PRIZES.  165 

cus  was  accordingly  despatched  to  inform  Mrs. 
Blake  of  the  opening  they  had  made  for  her  daugh- 
ter. The  offer  was  gratefully  accepted,  especially 
as  Marcus  assured  her  that  Ellen  would  probably 
have  time  and  facilities  for  continuing  her  studies, 
the  same  as  if  she  were  attending  school.  It  was 
agreed  that  she  should  be  in  readiness  for  her  new 
home,  the  next  week. 

The  district  school  which  Ronald  attended  was 
now  near  the  end  of  the  fall  term.  It  was  to  close 
with  a  public  examination  and  exhibition,  for  which 
considerable  preparation  had  been  made.  Several 
prizes  were  to  be  awarded,  for  good  behavior  and 
scholarship.  Among  others,  a  favorite  book  was 
to  be  given  to  the  boy  who  showed  the  neatest 
kept  and  best  executed  writing-book  at  the  close 
of  the  term.  A  similar  prize  was  offered  to  the 
girls,  and  another  to  the  scholar  whose  book  showed 
the  greatest  improvement,  during  the  term.  For 
the  first-named  prize  Ronald  had  been  a  candidate, 
until  the  unfortunate  blotting  of  his  book,  which 
threw  him  out  of  the  contest.  On  the  day  before 
the  exhibition,  as  the  teacher  was  making  a  final 
examination  of  the  writing-books,  she  was  surprised 


166  ANOTHEK    BLOTTED     BOOK. 

and  vexed  to  observe  several  fresh  blots  upon  the 
book  which  she  supposed  would  take  the  prize.  It 
belonged  to  LCAVIS  Daniels,  a  boy  who  sat  by  the 
side  of  Ronald.  He  denied  all  knowledge  of  the 
matter,  however,  and  could  hardly  believe  that  it 
was  his  book  that  was  disfigured,  until  he  had  seen 
it  for  himself.  When  told  that  these  blots  had 
probably  lost  him  the  prize,  he  did  not  manifest 
much  emotion ;  and,  indeed,  he  seemed  to  take  the 
affair  so  coolly,  from  first  to  last,  that  Mrs.  Benham, 
the  teacher,  did  not  know  what  to  think  of  it.  She 
at  length  determined  to  have  some  further  conver- 
sation with  him  on  the  subject,  and  with  this  pur- 
pose detained  him  after  school  was  dismissed. 

"  Lewis,"  she  said,  when  they  were  alone,  "  to- 
morrow is  probably  the  last  day  that  I  shall  ever 
be  your  teacher.  I  want  to  part  pleasantly  with 
all  my  scholars,  and  to  carry  away  agreeable  recol- 
lections of  them.  But  I  feel  a  little  troubled  about 
you.  I  am  afraid  you  have  not  told  me  the  truth 
about  your  writing-book,  and  I  can't  bear  to  think 
you  are  going  to  bid  me  good-by  with  a  falsehood 
in  your  mouth.  Now  if  yon  have  tried  to  deceive 
me,  I  want  you  to  confess  it  all,  and  be  forgiven, 


GUILT    BETEAYE1).  167 

for  I  shall  not  punish  you,  as  we  are  about  to  sep- 
arate." 

Lewis  colored  deeply,  and  replied  in  a  husky 
voice  — 

"I  told  you  all  I  knew  about  it." 

"  But  you  told  me  nothing  about  it,"  replied  Mrs. 
Benham,  whose  suspicions  were  further  excited  by 
this  reply. 

"I  know  nothing  about  it,"  added  Lewis. 

"  Lewis  Daniels,"  continued  the  teacher,  mildly, 
after  a  slight  pause,  "  can  you  look  me  calmly  in 
the  eye,  and  say  that  ?  No,  I  knew  you  could  not. 
You  cannot  act  out  such  a  black  falsehood.  Your 
manner  betrays  you.  Now  will  you  acknowledge 
the  whole  truth  ?  " 

"  I  blotted  the  book  myself, "  said  Lewis,  burst- 
ing into  tears. 

"  How  did  it  happen  ?  "  inquired  Mrs.  Benham. 

"  I  did  it  on  purpose,  because  I  did  n't  want  to 
take  the  prize,"  sobbed  the  boy. 

"That  is  a  very  singular  reason  —  I  hope  you 
will  not  tell  me  any  more  untruths  about  the  mat- 
ter," replied  the  teacher,  mildly,  a  shade  of  anxiety 
flitting  across  her  face. 


168  A     MYSTERY    EXPLAINED. 

"  It  is  nothing  but  the  truth,  as  true  as  I  'm  alive," 
continued  Lewis ;  "  I  did  n't  want  to  get  the  prize 
away  from  Ronald : —  that 's  why  I  did  it." 

"  That  was  very  generous  in  you,  if  you  are  tell- 
ing the  truth,"  replied  the  teacher ;  "  but  was  it  just 
to  yourself?  If  you  fairly  earned  the  prize,  why 
should  you  give  it  up  to  another  ?  " 

"I  didn't  earn  it  fairly,"  replied  Lewis,  amid 
fresh  tears  and  sobs.  "  I  thoiight  he  would  get  the 
prize,  and  so  I  blotted  his  book  one  morning,  before 
he  got  to  school.  You  punished  him  for  it  —  do  n't 
you  remember  ?  " 

Mrs.  Benham  did  remember,  and  it  would  be 
hard  to  say  whether  she  or  her  conscience-stricken 
pupil  suffered  most  at  the  recollection  of  the  trying 
scenes  thus  recalled,  the  mystery  of  which  was 
now  unfolded  to  her.  It  was  not  strange  that  her 
own  tears  mingled  with  those  of  the  sobbing  boy, 
for  she  felt  that  she  too  had  erred,  though  she  hoped 
innocently. 

"My  poor  boy,  you  have  been  most  severely 
punished  for  your  fault,"  at  length  resumed  Mrs. 
Benham.  "Conscience  is  a  stern  judge.  'A 
wounded  spirit  who  can  bear  ? ' " 


A    WOUNDED     SPIKIT.  169 

"Yes,  ma'am,  when  you  punished  Ronald,  and 
when  he  got  up  before  the  school  and  asked  your 
pardon"  —  but  the  penitent  boy's  emotions  were 
too  deep  to  allow  him  to  finish  the  sentence. 

"And  I  suppose  you  have  been  suffering  more 
or  less  from  this  concealed  sin,  every  day  since, 
noAV  about  six  weeks,"  said  Mrs.  Benham. 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  replied  Lewis.  "  I  felt  so  mean 
that  I  used  to  keep  out  of  Ronald's  way  as  much 
as  I  could.  I  hated  to  see  him.  Then  I  tried  to 
treat  him  as  well  as  I  could,  but  that  did  n't  help 
me  much.  So  I  made  up  my  mind  at  last  that  I 
would  serve  my  Avriting-book  the  same  way  that  I 
served  his." 

"And  did  you  expect  to  gain  peace  of  mind  in 
this  way  —  by  committing  another  fault,  and  cov- 
ering it  over  with  a  falsehood?"  inquired  the 
teacher.  "Yoxir  last  error  was  almost  as  bad  as 
the  first.  I  hope  this  will  be  a  lesson  to  you,  as 
long  as  you  live.  By  delaying  this  confession  so 
many  weeks,  you  have  caused  yourself  a  great  deal 
of  suffering,  and  got  further  into  trouble  than  you 
were  at  first.  But  as  I  promised,  I  cheerfully  for- 
give all,  so  far  as  it  concerns  me.  Do  you  think 
15 


170  PKAYEK. 

there  is  any  one  else  whose  forgiveness  you  ought 
to  seek?" 

"  I  suppose  I  ought  to  tell  Ronald  about  it,  and 
ask  him  to  forgive  me,"  replied  Lewis. 

"  I  should  do  so,  most  certainly,"  said  the  teacher; 
"  and  you  had  better  see  him  to-night,  if  possible, 
as  you  may  not  have  an  opportunity  to  speak  with 
him  to-morrow.  Is  there  any  one  else  whose  for- 
giveness you  propose  to  seek  ?  " 

"  I  do  n't  know,"  replied  Lewis,  in  doubt. 

"Don't  you  think  your  Heavenly  Father  will 
expect  you  to  confess  this  matter  to  him,  and  ask 
his  forgiveness  ?  "  inquired  the  teacher.  "  You  have 
sinned  against  him  quite  as  much  as  against  Ronald 
or  me.  Are  you  in  the  habit  of  praying  to  him  ?  " 

"No,  ma'am  —  only  I  say  a  hymn  sometimes, 
when  I  go  to  bed,"  replied  Lewis. 

"  I  am  sorry  you  do  not  pray  to  him,"  resumed 
the  teacher.  "He  made  you,  and  he  gives  you 
every  good  thing  you  receive,  and  when  you  do 
wrong,  he  is  grieved.  I  should  think  you  would 
thank  him  every  day  for  the  blessings  he  gives, 
and  ask  him  for  those  things  you  need ;  and  when 
you  displease  him,  I  wonder  how  you  can  help  ask- 


PRAYER.  171 

ing  him  to  forgive  you,  and  to  keep  you  from  falling 
into  sin  again.  "Will  you  join  with  me,  now,  in 
seeking  his  forgiveness  ?  " 

Lewis  bowed  assent,  and  knelt  down  with  his 
teacher,  who  offered  a  brief  and  fervent  prayer  in 
his  behalf,  that  his  sins  might  be  truly  repented  of 
and  forgiven,  and  that  he  might  be  kept  from  trans- 
gression hereafter.  She  then  urged  him  to  seek 
the  divine  forgiveness,  in  secret  prayer  at  home, 
and  with  a  kindly  good-night,  they  separated. 

Lewis  went  directly  to  Mrs.  Page's,  where  he 
found  Ronald,  in  company  with  the  other  children. 
After  a  little  while,  he  managed  to  draw  him  aside, 
saying  — 

"  Come  out  this  way,  Ronald  —  I  Ve  got  some- 
thing to  tell  you." 

"  Well,  tell  away,"  replied  Ronald. 

"You  know  the  teacher  found  some  blots  on  my 
writing-book,  this  afternoon  ?  " 

"  Yes  —  how  came  they  there  ?  " 

"  I  blotted  it  myself." 

"  You  did  ?     Then  you  told  a  whopper." 

"  I  did  it  purposely,  too." 


172  FORGIVEN. 

"  Then  you  was  a  fool.  Why,  you  might  have 
taken  the  prize,  if  you  had.  n't  done  it." 

"But  I  did  something  worse  than  that." 

"What  was  it?" 

"I  blotted  your  book  the  other  day,  so  I  might 
make  sure  of  the  prize." 

"  You  mean "  but  the  hasty  reply  was  in- 
stantly checked  by  a  glance  at  the  sorrowful  face 
before  him,  and  Ronald  stood  silent  and  ashamed. 

"  I  'm  sorry  for  it,  and  I  hope  you  will  forgive 
me,"  added  Lewis,  the  tears  gathering  in  his  eyes. 
"  I  told  the  teacher  all  about  it,  and  she  has  for- 
given me." 

"  O  yes,  I  '11  forgive  you,  too,  seeing  you  have 
owned  up  of  your  own  accord." 

"  I  've  suffered  enough  for  it  to  be  forgiven,  at 
any  rate." 

"  You  blotted  your  book  so  as  to  be  even  with 
me  ?  Well,  that  was  doing  the  handsome  thing, 
any  way.  You  might  have  kept  dark,  and  got  the 
prize,  just  as  easy  as  not.  I  never  supposed  any 
one  blotted  my  book  on  purpose ;  I  thought  it  Avas 
an  accident." 

Lewis  repeated  his  expressions  of  sorrow  for  his 


KOXALD'S   PRIZES.  173 

offence,  and  received  renewed  assurances  of  for- 
giveness. He  then  returned  home  with  a  lighter 
heart  than  he  had  known  for  many  a  day. 

The  examination  of  the   school,  the  next  day, 
passed  off  very  successfully.     A  goodly  company 
of  visitors  was  present,  the  order  and  general  be- 
havior of  the  scholars  were  excellent,  the  classes 
appeared  well,  and  the  singing  and  declamations 
were  attractive.     Ronald,  unexpectedly  to  himself5 
bore  off  two  of  the  honors  —  one  for  general  pro- 
gress in  his  studies,  and  the  other  for  the  neatest 
writing-book.     Both  prizes  were  books  adapted  to 
his  age.     As  the  writing  prize  was  handed  to  him, 
the   committee-man  who  distributed  the  gifts,  re- 
.<ed  that  his  book  was  somewhat  blotted  ;  but 
It  had  been  ascertained  that  it  was  through  no 
iult  of  his,  and  as,  saving  this  fault,  his  book  stood 
ihe  highest,  they  had  decided  to  award  him  the 
prize.     So  ended  Ronald's  last  day  at  the  district 
school.    He  was  now  to  enter  the  academy. 
15* 


CHAPTER  XL 

IN-DOOK    AMUSEMENTS. 

fTlHE  fall  term  of  the  academy  closed  a  few  days 
after  the  district  school,  and  Oscar,  also,  was 
released  from  his  lessons,  so  that  all  the  young  folks 
were  now  having  a  short  vacation.  Kate  and  Otis, 
however,  were  greatly  disappointed,  on  receiving  a 
letter  from  their  father,  a  few  days  before  the  term 
closed,  stating  that  they  were  to  remain  in  High- 
burg  throiigh  the  vacation,  instead  of  visiting  their 
home.  The  serious  illness  of  their  little  sister  was 
the  reason  given  for  this  new  arrangement,  and  as 
a  partial  offset  to  the  disappointment,  their  parents 
promised  to  make  them  a  brief  visit  at  the  earliest 
possible  day. 

The  weather  was  now  cold,  and  often  dull  or 
stormy,  rendering  out-door  amusements  unpleasant, 


CONGLOMEKATION.  175 

and  much  of  the  time  impracticable.  Marcus, 
though  busily  engaged  in  finishing  up  his  work  for 
the  winter,  was  untiring  in  his  efforts  to  relieve  the 
disappointment  of  Kate  and  Otis,  by  finding  amuse- 
ments for  them  and  the  other  children.  When  the 
weather  would  not  admit  of  a  ride  in  the  wagon,  an 
excursion  in  the  woods,  or  a  frolic  in  the  fields  and 
on  the  hill-sides,  he  was  always  ready  with  some 
game  or  amusement  that  could  be  played  in  the 
house  or  barn.  The  long  evenings,  too,  were  be- 
guiled with  innocent  and  often  instructive  diver- 
sions, and  when  the  wind  raved  loudest  without, 
there  were  no  gloomy  hearts  within. 

"  I  'm  going  to  propose  a  new  play,"  said  Marcus, 
one  evening,  as  the  little  party  gathered  around 
the  table  ;  " it  is  called  Conglomeration" 

"  Conglomeration !  I  hope  the  play  is  as  funny 
as  the  name,"  said  Kate. 

"  We  shall  see,"  observed  Marcus,  as  he  distrib- 
uted some  slips'  of  paper  among  the  children. 
"  Now  I  want  each  of  you  to  write  five  words  on 
separate  pieces  of  paper,  and  throw  them  all  in  a 
heap  on  the  middle  of  the  table.  You  can  select 
any  words  you  choose." 


176  THE    LISTS. 

When  all  had  written,  Marcus  mixed  together 
the  bits  of  paper,  and  then  directed  each  one  to 
take  five  words  from  the  heap,  as  they  happened  to 
come,  and  to  write  one  or  more  sentences  contain- 
ing those  words  in  the  order  in  which  they  were 
drawn  from  the  pile. 

There  was  a  good  deal  of  merriment  among  the 
party,  as  they  glanced  at  the  slips,  and  perceived 
what  a  droll  "conglomeration"  they  had  got  to 
weave  together.  Here  are  some  specimens  of 
them :  — 


KATE'S. 

EONALD'S. 

OSCAR'S. 

OTIS'S. 

Poetry, 

Spider, 

Shoot, 

Funny, 

Physic, 

Book, 

Gravy, 

Toothache, 

Should, 

Sober, 

Girl, 

Jewsharp, 

Ronald, 

Cannot, 

Onions, 

Going, 

Broomstick. 

Turkey. 

Sublime. 

Jericho. 

No  one  thought  of  saying  "I  can't,"  however, 
and  in  a  few  minutes,  after  some  rubbing  of  fore- 
heads and  scratching  of  heads,  the  last  of  the  sen- 
tences was  completed. 

"Now  each  one  may  read  his  own  sentence  aloud, 
emphasizing  the  words  that  were  given.  Otis,  we 
will  begin  with  you." 

Otis  read :  — 


THE    SENTENCES.  177 

"  It  would  be  funny  if  the  toothache  could  be 
cured  with  a  jeicsharp,  but  I  am  not  going  to  Jer- 
icho to  find  out  about  it." 

"  No,  I  should  not,"  said  Marcus ;  "  now,  Ronald, 
what  have  you  written  ?  " 
Konald  then  read :  — 

"The  spider  may  not  care  anything  about  a 
book,  but  a  sober  boy  like  me  cannot  help  loving 
roast  turkey" 

"  A  sober  boy,  I  should  think ! "  said  Kate. 

"Do  n't  interrupt  us,"  said  Marcus ;  "  now,  what's 
yours,  Oscar  ?  " 

"  I  could  n't  make  much  out  of  my  list,"  remarked 
Oscar,  and  after  a  moment's  hesitation,  he  read :  — 

"  If  I  could  shoot  a  rabbit,  I  would  make  grary 
of  him ;  and  then  the  girl  should  serve  him  up 
with  onions,  in  the  most  sublime  style." 

"  Why,  I  bet  I  could  do  better  than  that,"  ex- 
claimed Ronald. 

"  Stop,  stop,  Ronald ! "  cried  Marcus ;  "  where  are 
your  manners  ?  " 

"  Something  came  into  my  head,  just  then,  and 
I  spoke  before  I  thought,"  replied  the  impulsive 
boy,  somewhat  abashed. 


178  CONGLOMERATION. 

"  Let  him  try  my  list  —  I  do  n't  care  if  he  does 
beat  me,"  said  Oscar,  good  naturedly. 

"No,"  replied  Marcus,  "I  think  he  had  better 
not  —  you  have  done  well  enough  yourself.  Now, 
Kate,  we  will  hear  yours." 

Kate  then  read :  — 

"  I  do  n't  care  much  about  poetry,  and  I  hate 
physic,  but  I  should  like  to  hit  Ronald  with  a 
broomstick? 

"You'd  better  try  it!"  cried  Ronald,  jumping 
into  an  attitude  of  self-defence,  as  the  merry  laugh 
rang  over  the  house. 

Sentences  were  also  read  by  Marcus  and  Ellen 
Blake,  who  had  now  become  an  inmate  of  the 
house.  Another  round  was  then  proposed  Avith  a 
larger  list  of  words ;  and  now  that  the  diameter 
of  the  play  was  better  understood,  they  found  it 
even  more  amusing  than  at  first. 

The  "Hay-MoAv  Debating  Society,"  so  named 
from  the  place  in  which  it  usually  held  its  meetings, 
was  established  at  the  commencement  of  the  vaca- 
tion, and  met  once  or  twice  a  week  until  the  new 
term  commenced.  All  the  children  belonged  to  it, 

o  » 

and  all  were  required  to  take  part  in  the  discussions. 


DEBATING     SOCIETY.  179 

Subjects  were  assigned  beforehand,  and  disputants 
appointed  for  each  side,  so  that  all  were  prepared 
to  say  something.  The  questions  discussed  were 
not  perhaps  so  important  as  those  which  sometimes 
agitate  senates  and  parliaments,  but  they  were  such 
as  the  young  debaters  could  grasp,  and  feel  an  in- 
terest in.  Marcus  gave  out  for  the  first  discussion 
the  proposition,  "  Education  is  of  more  value  to  a 
man  than  wealth."  The  manner  in  which  this 
grave  theme  was  handled,  induced  him  to  throw 
away  his  list  of  propositions  for  discussion,  and  to 
make  a  new  set,  of  a  very  different  order.  Some 
of  these  were  as  follows :  "  Which  is  preferable, 
summer  or  winter  ?  "  "  "Which  is  pleasanter,  a  res- 
idence on  a  hill,  or  in  a  valley  ?  "  "  Which  is  most 
desirable,  a  half  holiday,  Wednesday  and  Saturday 
afternoons,  or  a  whole  holiday,  every  Saturday  ?  " 
"Who  enjoy  themselves  most,  boys  or  girls?" 
Though  these  may  look  like  trivial  questions,  they 
served  to  wake  up  the  ideas  of  the  young  people, 
and  sometimes  the  debates  became  quite  exciting, 
occasionally  taking  a  very  amusing  turn. 

One  evening,  as  riddles,  puzzles,  etc.,  were  in  the 


180  PUZZLES. 

ascendant,  Ellen  read  the  following  from  a  scrap 
of  paper : — 

"  There  was  a  man  of  Adam's  race, 
Who  had  a  certain  dwelling  place ; 
He  had  a  house  well  covered  o'er, 
Where  no  man  dwelt  since  nor  before. 
It  was  not  built  by  human  art, 
Nor  brick  nor  lime  in  any  part, 
Nor  wood,  nor  rock,  nor  nails,  nor  kiln, 
But  curiously  was  wrought  within. 
'T  was  not  in  heaven,  nor  yet  in  hell, 
Nor  on  the  earth  where  mortals  dwell. 
Now  if  you  know  this  man  of  fame, 
Tell  where  he  lived  and  what  'a  his  name." 

"Jonah  in  the  whale's  belly!"  promptly  cried 
Ronald. 

"  Did  you  ever  see  this  puzzle  ?  "  inquired  Otis. 
"  A  man  has  a  wolf,  a  goat  and  a  cabbage  to  carry 
across  a  river.  It  wont  do  to  leave  the  wolf  and 
goat  together,  nor  the  goat  and  the  cabbage,  and  he 
can  carry  only  one  at  a  time,  the  boat  is  so  small. 
Now  what  shall  lie  do  ?  " 

After  a  moment's  thought,  Kate  gave  the  solu- 
tion, as  follows :  — 

"  First  he  carried  over  the  goat ;  then  returned 
and  got  the  cabbage ;  then  he  took  back  the  goat, 


PUZZLES.  181 

and  left  it,  and  carried  over  the  wolf;  then  last  of 
all  he  went  and  got  the  goat." 

"  Let 's  see  who  can  find  this  one  out,"  said  Ro- 
nald. "  A  sea  captain  on  a  voyage  had  thirty  pas- 
sengers —  fifteen  Christians  and  fifteen  Turks.  A. 
great  tempest  arose,  and  he  had  to  throw  half  of 
them  overboard.  They  agreed  to  let  him  place 
them  in  a  circle,  and  throw  every  ninth  man  over- 
board, till  only  fifteen  were  left.  He  did  so,  and 
when  he  got  through,  every  Christian  was  saved, 
and  every  Turk  drowned.  How  did  he  do  it  ?  " 

"  That  is  easy  enough,"  said  Kate ;  and  writing 
down  the  figures  from  one  to  thirty,  she  counted 
off  every  ninth  one,  and  found  that  the  Christians 
and  Turks  were  arranged  as  follows :  — 


"Let  me  propose  the  next  puzzle,"  said  Aunt 
Fanny.  "What  English  word  of  seven  letters  can 
be  so  transposed  as  to  make  over  fifty  different 
words?" 

No  one  could  solve  this  question,  and  when  the 
word  "weather"  was  named,  as  the  answer,  the 

children  could  hardly  credit  the  fact  that  it  was  so 
16 


182 


A    PROLIFIC    WOKD. 


prolific,  until  they  had  each  made  out  a  list  of 
words.  Throwing  out  quite  a  number  that  were 
obtained  by  using  a  single  letter  more  than  once, 
the  following  long  list  remained,  which  perhaps 
does  not  exhaust  the  subject:  — 


We, 

Where, 

Ewe, 

Tea, 

Her, 

Here. 

Wet, 

Wreath, 

Ere, 

Tear, 

He, 

Hare, 

War, 

Wrath, 

At, 

Tree, 

Ha, 

Heat, 

Wart, 

Water, 

Ah, 

Thaw 

Hat, 

Haw, 

Were, 

Ear, 

Ate, 

Tare, 

Hate, 

Hew, 

Wear, 

Eat, 

Art, 

Tar, 

Hater, 

Rat, 

What, 

Eater, 

Awe, 

There, 

Hart, 

Rate, 

Whet, 

Earth, 

Are, 

Three, 

Heart, 

Raw, 

Wheat. 

Ether. 

The. 

Taw. 

Hear. 

Re-wet. 

"  There,  I  have  made  forty  angles  with  only  five 
straight  lines,"  said  Kate,  holding  up  a  slip  of  pa- 
per ;  "  can  any  body  beat  that  ?  " 

"  Let  me  try,"  said  Mar- 
cus ;  and  in  a  few  minutes 
he  pushed  towards  Kate 
the  accompanying  figure, 
remarking,  "  There,  I  've 
made  only  six  lines,  and  if 
I've  counted  right,  there 
are  sixty  angles." 


OSCARS    PUZZLE. 


183 


While  the  others  were  amusing 
themselves  with  angles,  Oscar 
made  the  annexed  sketch,  and  now 
passed  it  to  the  others,  giving  out 
with  it  the  following  problem : 

"  A  man  had  a  piece  of  land  ex- 
actly square,  and  having  four  trees  scattered  over 
it,  as  you  see  in  the  picture.  The  house  took  up 
one  quarter  of  the  land,  and  was  occupied  by  four 
tenants.  The  owner  promised  them  the  use  of  the 
land,  rent  free,  if  they  could  divide  it  into  four  pails 
of  the  same  size  and  shape,  and  each  to  have  one 
tree.  The  question  is,  how  did  they  do  it  ?  " 

After  some  little  puzzling  of 
wits,  the  lot  was  divided  as  in 
the  annexed  illustration,  and 
the  tenants  were  congratulated 
on  the  good  bargain  they  had 
made. 

"Otis,"  said  Ronald,  "I'll  bet  you  can't  tell  what 
the  half  of  nine  is." 

"It's  four  and  a  half — any  fool   might   know 
that,"  replied  Otis. 

"No  it  isn't,"  continued  Ronald,  "it's  either 


184  THE    THREE     ARABS. 

four  or  six,  just  as  you  please,  and  I  can  prove  it ; " 
and  \vriting  IX,  he  folded  the  paper  across  the  mid- 
dle and  made  his  promise  good. 

"Speaking  of  arithmetical  puzzles,"  said  Aunt 
Fanny,  "  I  remember  one  that  I  worked  over  for  a 
long  time,  before  I  could  see  into  it.  It  was  some- 
thing like  this :  Two  Arabs  sat  down  to  dinner,  one 
having  five  loaves,  and  the  other  three.  A  stranger 
came  along  and  asked  permission  to  eat  with  them, 
which  they  granted.  After  the  stranger  had  dined, 
he  laid  down  eight  pieces  of  money  and  departed. 
The  owner  of  the  five  loaves  took  five  pieces,  and 
left  three  for  the  other,  who  thought  he  had  not 
received  his  share.  So  they  went  to  a  magistrate, 
and  he  ordered  that  the  owner  of  the  five  loaves 
should  have  seven  pieces  of  the  money,  and  the 
other  only  one.  Was  this  just  ?  " 

"Why,  no,  it 's  plain  enough  that  it  wasn't,"  said 
Otis.  "  Each  man  ought  to  have  as  many  pieces  of 
money  as  he  had  loaves." 

"  Yes,  it  was  just,"  continued  Aunt  Fanny ;  "  oth- 
erwise you  would  pay  the  man  of  three  loaves  for 
the  bread  he  ate  himself.  To  prove  this,  divide 
each  loaf  into  three  equal  parts,  making  in  all 


THE    CAEPEXTEES.  185 

twenty-four  parts,  and  take  it  for  granted  that  each 
pei-son  ate  an  equal  or  one-third  part  of  the  whole. 
You  will  find  that  the  stranger  had  seven  parts  of 
the  pei-son  who  contributed  five  loaves  or  fifteen 
parts,  and  only  one  of  him  who  contributed  three 
loaves,  or  nine  parts." 

"  O  yes,  I  see  into  it,  now,"  said  Otis. 

"  That  reminds  me,"  said  Marcus,  "  of  an  anec- 
dote that  I  read  in  a  neAvspaper  the  other  day.  I 
treasured  it  up,  intending  to  relate  it  in  school 
some  day,  to  illustrate  the  importance  of  under- 
standing arithmetic.  It  seems  two  carpenters  took 
a  job  for  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars.  One  of 
them,  whom  we  will  call  A,  worked  one  day  more 
than  the  other,  B.  The  wages  of  a  carpenter  were 
two  dollars  per  day.  When  the  work  was  finished, 
they  divided  the  money,  each  taking  seventy-five 
dollars.  Then  A  wished  B  to  give  him  two  dol- 
lars more  for  the  extra  day,  but  B  refused,  as  he 
saw  that  if  he  did  so,  A  would  have  four  dollars 
more  than  he,  which  was  evidently  unjust.  A  in- 
sisted, and  B  insisted,  and  finally  they  quarrelled. 
Some  of  the  bystanders  took  the  part  of  A,  and 

some  of  B ;  and  yet  the  paper  adds  that  all  the  par- 
16* 


186  STORY    OF    A    MISER. 

ties  were  Americans,  and  had  attended  the  com- 
mon schools  six  or  eight  years,  where  I  suppose 
they  studied  arithmetic,  just  as  I  suppose  a  good 
many  other  children  do,  without  troubling  them- 
selves to  understand  it." 

"How  should  you  have  settled  that  dispute, 
Otis  ?  "  inquired  Mrs.  Page. 

"  I  should  have  told  them  to  give  A  two  dollars 
for  his  extra  day,  and  divide  the  rest  equally,"  re- 
plied Otis. 

"  Or  if  B  had  given  A  one  dollar,  it  would  have 
amounted  to  the  same  thing,"  said  Mrs.  Page. 

"  Your  story,"  said  Aunt  Fanny,  "  reminds  me  of 
an  anecdote  of  a  very  rich  miser  who  lived  in  Eng- 
land, in  the  time  of  Cromwell.  His  name  was 
Audley.  He  had  a  wonderful  knack  of  getting  and 
keeping  money,  and  was  not  at  all  particular  how 
he  obtained  it,  if  he  did  not  make  himself  liable  to 
the  law.  He  once  heard  of  a  poor  tradesman  who 
had  been  sued  by  a  merchant  for  two  hundred 
pounds.  The  debtor  could  not  meet  the  demand, 
and  was  declared  insolvent.  Audley  then  went  to 
the  merchant,  and  offered  him  forty  pounds  for  the 
debt,  which  was  gladly  accepted.  He  next  went 


A     SHARP    BARGAIN.  187 

to  the  tradesman,  and  offered  to  release  him  from 
the  debt  for  fifty  pounds,  on  condition  that  he 
would  enter  into  a  bond  to  pay  for  the  accommo- 
dation. The  debtor  was  delighted  with  the  offer, 
especially  as  the  terms  of  the  bond  were  so  easy. 
He  was  only  required  to  pay  to  Audley,  sometime 
within  twenty  years  of  that  time,  one  penny  pro- 
gressively doubled,  on  the  first  day  of  twenty  con- 
secutive months ;  and  in  case  he  failed  to  fulfil  these 
easy  terms,  he  was  to  forfeit  five  hundred  pounds. 
Thus  relieved  of  his  debt,  he  again  commenced  busi- 
ness, and  flourished  more  than  ever.  Two  or  three 
years  after,  Audley  walked  into  his  shop  one  morn- 
ing, and  demanded  his  first  payment.  The  trades- 
man paid  him  his  penny,  and  thanked  him  for  the 
favor  he  had  done  him.  On  the  first  day  of  the 
next  month,  Audley  again  called,  and  received  his 
two  pence ;  a  month  later,  he  received  four  pence ; 
and  so  on  for  several  months,  doubling  the  sum 
each  time.  But  at  last  the  tradesman's  suspicions 
were  aroused,  and  he  entered  into  a  calculation  of 
his  subsequent  payments.  I  do  not  remember  the 
sum  which  it  amounted  to  —  " 

"  Wait  a  minute  —  let  me  figure  it  up,"  inter- 


188  THE    FIGURE 

rupted  Kate,  and  she  at  once  set  her  pencil  in  mo- 
tion. The  calculation  employed  her  and  the  others 
several  minutes.  It  was  ascertained  that  the 
tradesman's  last  payment  would  have  amounted  to 
two  thousand  one  hundred  and  eighty-six  pounds, 
and  that  the  total  sum  of  all  the  payments  would 
have  been  four  thousand  three  hundred  and  sixty- 
nine  pounds,  omitting  odd  shillings  and  pence ! 

"I  suppose  the  man  paid  the  forfeit,  when  he 
found  that  out,"  said  Ellen. 

"Yes,  he  paid  the  miser  five  hundred  pounds  for 
his  kindness,"  replied  Aunt  Fanny. 

"  I  do  n't  see  how  any  one  can  dislike  arithmetic 
—  I  think  it  is  a  very  interesting  study,"  remarked 
Kate. 

"  How  curious  it  is  about  the  figure  9,"  said  Oscar ; 
"  you  may  multiply  any  number  you  please  by  9,  and 
the  figures  in  the  product,  added  together,  will 
make  9,  or  a  series  of  9's.  As — 

999 
7  3  12 

63  —  6+3  =  9         27 — 2  +  7  =  9      108  —  1+8=9 

and  so  on  with  any  number,  no  matter  how  large." 


CUEIOUS     FACTS.  189 

"  You'  can  do  the  same  with  any  of  the  multiples 
of  9,"  said  Aunt  Fanny,  "as  18,  27,  36,  45,  54,  etc. 
If  you  multiply  these  by  any  number  whatever, 
you  will  have  a  series  of  9's  in  the  product.  Try  it." 

Several  experiments  were  made,  with  such  re- 
sults as  the  following : 

46 
18 

828  —  8  +  2  +  8  =  18  —  1  +  8  =  9 

117 

27 

3159—3  +  1  +  5  +  9  =  18  —  1+8  =  9 

"  There  is  another  thing  about  the  figure  9  very 
curious,"  said  Marcus.  "If  you  take  any  number 
composed  of  two  figures,  reverse  it,  and  subtract 
the  smaller  from  the  larger,  the  sum  of  the  figures 
in  the  answer  will  always  be  9." 

This  was  found  to  be  true,  as  in  the  following  ex- 
amples : 

96  54  84  98 

69  45  48  89 

27—2  +  7  =  9  9  36 — 3  +  6  =  9  9 

Marcus  then  explained  that  numbers  composed 


190  CUEIOUS    FACTS. 

of  three  or  more  figures,  transposed  and  subtracted 
in  the  same  way,  would  always  give  a  series  of  9's 
in  the  product.  The  children  tried  the  experiment, 
and  the  following  are  some  of  their  examples : 

723  8962 

237  2698 

486  —  4  +  8  +  6  =  18      6264  — 6 +2-. -6-. -4  =  18 

32189 
28913 


3276  —  3  +  2  +  7  +  6  =  18 

863577  9216358 

736578  1982536 


126999  =  four  9's  7233822  =  three  9's 

"  That  is  curious ;  but  why  is  it  so  —  does  any- 
body know  ?  "  inquired  Ronald. 

"  It  will  take  a  wiser  head  than  mine  to  tell  why 
it  is  so,"  replied  Marcus. 

"I  found  out  something  the  other  day  about 
figures  that  I  didn't  know  before,"  remarked  Ro- 
nald ;  "  and  that  is,  that  if  you  wish  to  multiply  a 
number  by  five,  you  can  get  the  same  result  by  di- 
viding by  2,  and  adding  a  0  if  there  is  no  remainder, 
or  5  if  there  is  a  remainder.  Thus,  5  times  12  are 


MAGIC    SQUARES.  191 

60.  Divide  12  by  2,  and  add  a  0,  and  you  get  60. 
Or  5  times  83  are  415 ;  divide  83  by  2,  and  add  5, 
because  there  is  a  remainder,  and  you  have  the 
same  number,  415." 

"  That  is  quite  a  convenient  process,  sometimes," 
said  Miss  Lee,  "  but  there  is  no  mystery  about  it, 
like  the  properties  of  the  figure  9.  It  is  in  fact  the 
same  thing  as  multiplying  by  10  and  dividing 
by  2." 

"  So  it  is,"  replied  Ronald.  "  "Well,  it 's  queer 
that  I  did  n't  find  that  out  myself —  I  thought  that 
I  had  discovered  something  new." 

"  Do  you  know  how  to  make  the  magic  square, 
Marcus  ?  "  inquired  Otis. 

"  I  used  to  know  how  to  make  a  magic  square, 
for  there  are  several  hundreds  of  them,"  replied 
Marcus.  "  Let  me  see  if  I  can  do  it,  now  —  I 
suppose  I  have  forgotten  all  about  it." 

"  What  is  a  magic  square  ?  "  inquired  Ellen. 

"  It  is  a  table  of  figures  that  can  be  added  to- 
gether in  a  great  many  different  ways  with  the 
same  result,"  replied  Miss  Lee. 

Marcus  in  a  few  minutes  produced  the  simplest 
form  of  the  magic  square ;  and  turning  to  a  book  in 


192 


MAGIC     SQUARES. 


the  library,  he  found  another  one,  both  of  which  are 
here  given : 


The  several  columns  in  these  tables  may  be 
added  up  in  the  usual  way,  or  crosswise,  or  diagon- 
ally (from  one  angle  to  its  opposite)  and  the  result 
will  always  be  the  same  — 15  in  the  first,  and  34 
in  the  second  square. 

Such  were  some  of  the  methods  by  which  the 
children  were  amused,  at  Mrs.  Page's,  during  the 
long  evenings  and  stormy  days  of  their  vacation. 
They  also  had  singing,  reading  aloud,  story  telling, 
and  newspaper  publishing,  by  way  of  change.  Of 
this  last  I  must  tell  you  more. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE     NEWSPAPER. 

A  ND  what  about  the  newspaper  ?  Well,  it  was 
a  famous  thing,  for  a  time,  and  made  a  great 
stir  in  the  family.  The  idea  originated  with  Kate, 
who  thought-  it  would  be  rare  sport  to  edit  and 
publish  a  newspaper  among  themselves;  and  as 
the  others  readily  fell  in  with  her  plan,  the  enter- 
prise was  soon  under  way.  Aunt  Fanny,  who  had 
frequently  written  for  the  press,  consented  to  act 
as  editor,  and  Marcus  and  the  children  all  agreed 
to  contribute  their  portion  towards  sustaining  the 
paper.  The  preliminaries  were  soon  settled.  The 
paper  was  to  be  called  "THE  HOME  WREATH." 
It  was  to  be  issued  weekly,  and  composed  of  one 
or  more  sheets  of  letter  paper,  according  to  the 

quantity  of  matter  furnished.    Its  contents  were 
17 


194  THE     FIKST    NUMBEK. 

to  consist  of  short  selections,  cut  from  other  papers, 
and  original  articles.  The  latter  were  to  be  writ- 
ten on  one  side  of  narrow  slips  of  paper,  of  a  uni- 
form size,  so  that,  with  the  selections,  they  could 
be  readily  pasted  into  their  places,  in  columns.  Of 
course,  but  one  copy  of  each  paper  could  be  prepared, 
which  was  to  circulate  as  common  property.  The 
editor  was  authorized  to  reject,  correct  or  condense 
whatever  was  sent  for  publication.  Communica- 
tions were  to  be  sent  to  her  through  the  letter-box ; 
and  it  was  further  agreed  that  those  who  contrib- 
uted an  article  or  letter  to  the  "  Wreath  "  every 
week,  should  be  exempted  from  further  duties  as 
members  of  the  "  Letter-writing  Society,"  if  they 
did  not  choose  to  keep  up  their  private  correspond- 
ence. 

The  appearance  of  the  first  number  of  the  "Home 
Wreath"  was  quite  an  event  in  the  household. 
The  editor  maintained  a  dignified  reserve  in  regard 
to  its  contents,  until  the  day  of  publication,  when 
it  was  quietly  ushered  before  its  little  public,  six  or 
seven  pairs  of  eyes  being  intently  fastened  upon 
it,  before  it  had  been  two  minutes  from  « the  office." 
As  one  and  another,  who  had  "  a  finger  in  the  pie," 


A     SURPRISE.  195 

recognized  their  bantlings  in  the  crowded  columns, 
they  looked  pleased  and  surprised,  while  others, 
who  searched  in  vain  for  their  contributions,  seemed 
still  more  surprised,  and  not  quite  so  well  pleased. 
But  here  are  the  "Notices  to  Correspondents," 
which  doubtless  explain  it  all.  Ah,  yes,  the  editor 
is  already  bothered  with  articles  too  long  for  her 
little  paper,  or  too  carelessly  written  to  appear  in 
its  columns.  "Well,  perhaps  this  will  be  a  salutary 
warning  to  the  offenders ;  and  meanwhile,  they  can 
avenge  themselves  by  criticising  the  articles  which 
have  been  more  successful  than  their  own.  But 
we  hear  no  captious  criticism,  and  perceive  no  signs 
of  ill  nature.  The  "  Wreath "  is  read,  laughed 
over,  discussed  and  admired  by  all,  and  at  once 
takes  rts  place  as  an  "  established  fact." 

The  second  number  of  the  new  paper  promptly 
appeared,  the  next  week,  and  was  generally  re- 
garded as  an  improvement  on  the  first.  The  third 
was  indeed  a  surprise  number,  and  produced  a 
great  sensation  in  the  family.  It  was  issued  on 
Ronald's  birth-day,  who  went  early  to  the  letter- 
box, thinking  himself  entitled  to  the  remembrance 
of  his  correspondents,  on  such  an  occasion.  He 


196  HOW     IT     WAS     DONE. 

found  a  lot  of  small  packages  in  the  box,  addressed 
to  different  persons,  on  one  of  which  he  found  his 
own  name.  Tearing  off  the  envelope,  there  ap- 
peared before  him  the  "Home  Wreath,"  neatly 
printed  from  real  type,  on  printing  paper!  He 
could  scarcely  credit  his  eyes,  at  first,  but  the  evi- 
dence of  its  genuineness  was  too  plain  to  be  dis- 
puted, for  there  was  one  of  his  own  articles  in  real 
print !  The  discovery  was  quickly  known  all  over 
the  house,  and  each  of  the  inmates  found  a  copy 
of  the  paper  in  the  post  office,  bearing  his  or  her 
address.  Marcus  and  the  editor  both  feigned  sur- 
prise, when  questioned  about  the  affair;  but  after 
a  while  the  facts  leaked  out.  An  old  playmate 
and  intimate  friend  of  Marcus  was  employed  in  the 
printing  office  of  the  neighboring  village.  Marcus 
frequently  visited  him,  and,  with  a  view  of  getting  up 
a  birth-day  present  for  Ronald,  arranged  with  his 
friend  to  print  the  "  Wreath  "  for  that  occasion.  The 
plan  was  successfully  carried  out,  as  we  ha/e  seen. 
A  transcript  of  this  little  sheet  is  given  on  the 
next  two  leaves,  somewhat  reduced  in  its  dimen- 
sions and  the  size  of  its  type,  to  suit  our  pages,  but 
containing  all  the  matter  of  the  original. 


THE  HOME  WREATH, 


TOL.  I. 


HIGHBUKG,  DECEMBER  4. 


THE    HOME    WREATH: 

A  Weekly  Jonrnal  for  Home  Improvement 

PAGE  &   CO.,  PUBLISHERS. 
Terms  —  Gratis. 


For  the  Home  Wreath. 
LINES, 

INSCRIBED  TO  EOXALD  D.  PAGE. 
I'M  twelve!  I'm  twelve  to-day! 

Hurrah,  boys!  let  us  shout! 
Come,  leave  your  work  and  play, 
And  kick  old  care  away; 

Ye  gloomy  thoughts,  get  out! 

We  '11  have  no  mopes  about — 

I'm  twelve!  I'm  twelve  to-day! 

I'm  twelve!  I  'm  twelve  to-day  i 
A  dozen  years  have  fled 

Since  first  the  morning  ray, 

All  sober,  cold  and  gray, 
Stole  in  upon  my  head ; 
How  fast  old  Time  hath  sped! 

I  'm  twelve !  I  'm  twelve  to-day ! 

I  'm  twelve !  I  'm  twelve  to-day  I 

Then  help  me  to  be  glad  ! 
Come  all,  and  let 's  be  gay  — 
There's  nothing  more  to  pay 
For  being  bright  than  sad; 
Cheer  up,  then,  lass  and  lail! 
I  'm  twelve  1  I  'm  twelve  to-day  1 

An  Exercise  for  Scholars. 
IN  England,  young  candidates  for 
appointment  in  the  civil  service  are 
subjected  to  rigid  examinations,  de- 
signed to  test  their  abilities  and  ac- 
quirements. The  following  extract, 
which  we  have  somewhat  abridged, 
shows  one  of  the  methods  adopted  for 
securing  this  end  It  is  said  to  be  a 
literal  copy  of  a  document  which  a 
young  applicant  for  a  government 
clerkship  was  required  to  correct  while 
undergoing  his  examination.  We  won- 
17* 


der  how  many  of  our  young  readers 
could  put  it  into  proper  shape  without 
consulting  the  dictionary.  —  ED. 

"  CHARACTER  OF  WASHINGTON.  —  At 
the  braking  out  of  the  revolushonery 
war  in  Amerrica,  AVashiuton  joined 
the  caus  of  indipendance  To  dctale 
his  conduct  in  the  yeares  which  fol- 
lowed would  be  butt  to  relaite  the  hvs- 
tery  of  the  American  War.  It  may  be 
said  generaly  that  v.ethin  a  Terry  short 
peeriod  after  the  declarashion  of  indi- 
pendance the  affairs  of  Anicrricit  were 
in  a  condishun  so  ilesparati-,  that  per- 
happs  nothing  but  the  piculear  carac- 
tar  of  AVashiuton's  {.'onions  could  have 
retreaved  them.  It  required  the  con- 
(•umate  prudance.  the  calm  whisdom, 
the  inflexabic  firmness,  the  moihirate 
and  well-balenced  temper  of  AVashin- 
ton  to  imbrace  such  a  platjn  of  j.ollicy 
and  to  pursivere  in  it:  to  rc>i>t  the 
tempations  of  entreprize  to  lix  the 
i-onlidance  of  his  solders  without  the 
attraction  of  victery :  to  support  the 
spin-it  of  the  arniey  and  the  propel 
ammidst  those  floe  and  causl.ious 
planns  of  difensive  warfare  «ii-!i  are 
more  despereting  than  deflate  iteelf: 
to  restrain  his  ownc  h:iiiil-ition  and 
the  empettuosity  of  his  troupe.-:  to  in- 
dim;  temporary  hobscuvety  for  the 
salivation  of  his  contrv  ami  for  the  at- 
tanement  of  soiled  and  iiiiorfal  glory : 
and  to  suffer  even  temj'.-iriin  n-pn  ;ich 
and  oblaqny,  rapported  l>v  tin-  h;>pro- 
bation  of  hi*  own  con-if-noe.  «nd  the 
applaus  of  that  small  number  of  v,i.--e 
men  whose  praise  is  an  earnest  of  the 
hadmeratioii  and  grattitocdo  of  poss- 
terity.  Corage  is  enspired  by  succes, 
and  it  may  be  stimulated  to  dasperate 
exirtion  even  by  callamity.  but  i.«  gen- 
erally  pallseyed  by  inactivity.  A  ses- 
tern  of eaushous  defence  is  the  severest 
tryal  of  human  fortitoode  »n<l  by  this 
tes^e  the  firmness  of  Washington  was 
tryde." 

HATE. —  Hannah  Jlore  said  :  "Tf 
I  wanted  to  punish  an  enemy ,  it  should 
be  by  fastening  on  him  the  trouble  of 
constantly  hating  somebody." 

197 


THE    HOME     WREATH. 


SATURDAY,   DECEMBER  4. 


Nothing  Insignificant. 

OUR  humble  sheet  is  a  very  small 
affair;  but  if  any  stern  critic  is  dis- 
posed to  despise  it  on  that  account, 
let  us  remind  him  that  there  is 
nothing  so  small  as  to  be  wholly 
insignificant,  when  viewed  in  all 
its  relations.  We  everywhere  find 
little  things  linked  with  greater, 
and  thousands  of  minute  and  hid- 
den causes  are  constantly  inter- 
locking and  working  together,  to 
bring  about  those  events  which  im- 


afler  one  unsuccessful  attempt,  he 
gave  it  up,  saying,  li  I  can't."  The 
next  summer  several  of  his  play- 
mates learned  to  swim,  and  he  also 
wanted  to  learn  ;  but  after  getting 
his  mouth  and  ears  full  of  water, 
one  day,  he  cried,  "I  can't,"  and 
that  was  the  end  of  his  swimming 
experiments.  If  his  class  hud  a 
difficult  lesson,  he  never  learned  it, 
and  his  excuse  was  always  the 
same  —  "I  can't."  We  once  set 
him  a  copy  in  his  writing-book, 
and  told  him  that  if  he  could  not 
imitate  it  perfectly,  lie  must  write 
a?  well  as  lie  could.  "  I  can't,"  was 
the  ready  reply.  "  What !  "  we  ex- 


press us  with  their  vastness  and  im-   claimed,  "  can't  yon  write  as  well 
portance.    A  spark  of  fire  may  set  as  y°u  can?  "    IIe  ^^a  ashamed, 


in  train  a  conflagration  which  will 
lay  waste  thousands  of  acres.  Large 


but  made  no  reply. 
That  boy  is  now  a  young  man, 


and  populous  islands  in  the  Pacific  i  but  he  is  an  ign«™"ti  idle,  and 
Ocean  owe  their  origin  to  very  '  sniftless  fellow,  and,  we  fear,  will 
small  insects.  The  great  globe  it-  "ever  be  of  much  use  either  to  him- 
self is  made  up  of  little  particles  — 


the  universe  is  but  an  aggregate  of 
atoms.  The  astronomer  finds  it 
necessary  to  note  the  minutest  frac- 
tions of  time  in  observing  the  tran- 
sit of  a  star  whose  age  is  perhaps 
measured  by  thousands  of  centu- 
ries, and  whose  revolutions  extend 
through  infinite  space.  Thus  are 


self  or  to  the  world. 

Commend  us  to  the  boy  or  girl 
who  never  says  "  I  can't,"  except 
when  enticed  to  do  wrong.  ;<  I  can" 
does  all  things ;  "  I  can't,"  nothing. 


To  Correspondents. 

Several  articles  intended  for  this 

moments  linked  with  ages  in  the  llumljer  are  crowded  out.  We  shall 
economy  of  nature,  and  thus  are  probably  have  to  issue  a  double 
we  reminded  that  nothing  is  go !  number  next  week,  to  acconimo- 
miuute  as  to  be  insignificant.  date  our  friends. 

We  observe  that  some  of  our 
correspondents  occasionally  apply 
(hi!    pronoun    t/ion,   and   the  pro- 
This  phrase  is  always  in  the  mouth  nominal  adjectives  thy  and  thhie,to 
(rf  Some  Children  when  reuuei-tcdio  p'ural  nouns.    Tin's  is  wrong.     You 
do  anything.  We  once  knew  a  boy  and  yours  may  be  used  either  in  the 
who  was  greatly  addicted  to  its  use.  singular  or  plural  number;    hut 
He  wanted  to  learn  to  skate,  but  :thon,  thij  and  tkine  are  always  sin- 
198 


I  Can't. 


THE   HOME     WREATH. 


gular.  You  cannot  say  to  a  father ;  two  since,  were  attacked  with  vio- 
and  mother,  as  a  poem  which  we  jleiit  cramps  and  inflammation,  and 
lately  saw  in  a  newspaper,  (not  the  one  of  them  died  from  the  effects. 

It  is  conjectured  that  they  laid 
down  upon  the  ice,  while  heated 
from  their  exercise.  This  should 
be  a  warning  to  skaters. 

O~  The  snow  which  fell  Wednes- 
day, though  light,  is  sufficient  to 
make  pretty  good  sleighing,  and 
every  body  seems  to  be  improving 
it.  The  proprietors,  contributors 
and  subscribers  of  the  "  Wreath" 
took  their  first  sleigh-ride,  this  sea- 
sou,  on  Thursday.  They  were  all 
comfortably  stowed  away  in  a  sleigh 


"  Wreath,")  said, — 

"  Thy  darling  is  ha  heaven." 

IVcws  Items. 

O=The  Winter  Term  of  the 
Ilighburg  Academy  commences  on 
Monday  next,  and  will  continue 
eleven  weeks.  Kobert  Upton,  A. 
M.,  Preceptor;  Mr.  Marcus  Page, 
Assistant  Teacher;  and  Miss  Mar- 
tha D.  Tillotson,  Teacher  of  Draw- 
ing and  Music. 


and  a  pung! 


For  the  Wreath. 


DC7='  It  is  reported  that  traces  of 
bears  have  been  recently  seen  near 
Turkey  Hill,  in  the  eastern  part  of 
Higliburg.  Several  bears  have 
been  killed  this  winter  in  the  up- 
per part  of  the  county,  and  we 
should  not  be  surprised  if  some  of 
the  "  varmints  »  made  us  a  visit  A  Jf ntleman  was  once  examining  a. 

very  large  and  fine  library  in  Boston, 

ere  long.  wnen  tiie  iady  wno  had  introduced 

him,  asked  him  if  he  would  like  to 

O1"  A  lynx  was  shot  last  week  |  gee  tne  «  nucleus  "  of  the  collection. 

in  Burlington.     The   paper  from  j  (If  you  do  not  know  what "  nucleus-' 

which  we   glean  this   item   says:  means,  you  will  have  to  turn  to  the 

,;        dictionary,  as  I  can  think  of  no  sim- 

The  animal  is  a  rare  one  in  Ver-  j  pler  word  '^  substitute  for  it.)    "  Yes, 
mont.    It   is   of  a  grayish  color,  I  should  like  to  see  it,"  replied  the 

with  ears  ending  in  tufts  of  black  j visitor-  .  s.he  then  exhibited  to  him  a 
I  Latin  dictionary,  which  she  said  was 

hair,  standing  [not  the  '  ears,'  nor  j  purchased  by  the  owner  when  a  boy, 
the  '  hair,'  we  presume,  but  the  j  with  money  obtained  by  the  sale  of 
lynx]  a  little  more  than  a  foot  high,  blueberries.  The  owner  was  a  form- 
'  er's  boy,  and  that  is  the  way  he  be- 
aud  measuring  three  feet  m  length.  gan  his  fine  library.  He  is  now  a 


It  subsists  011  hares,  rabbits,  and 
such  small  animals,  occasionally 
attacking  a  sheep,  or  even  a  deer, 
by  dropping  on  them  [it]  from  a 
branch  of  a  tree." 

Two   boys   who   had   been 


learned  man,  and  is  well  known  in 
this  country  and  in  Europe. 

For  the  Wreath. 

Vanity — A  FaMe. 

Two  birds,  whose  plumage  was  very 
brilliant,  and  whose  song  was  beauti- 


skating  in  New  York,  a  week  or  ful,  were  sitting  on  a  tree,  singing, 

199 


THE   HOME    WREATH. 


when  they  discovered  a  man  looking 
at  them  very  intently.  "  There  is  au 
admirer —  see  how  we  hare  entranced 
him  !"  cried  one  of  the  birds,  and  she 
put  on  her  proudest  air,  and  warbled 
her  swee'.est  song.  "  1  do  not  like  to 
be  gazed  at  so  earnestly  hy  a  stran- 
ger," modestly  replied  the  other  bird ; 
'•  come,  let  us  go  and  hide  ourselves 
from  the  intruder."  The  modest  bird 
Hew  into  a  thicket  and  concealed  her- 
suif ;  but  the  other,  flying  to  the  top- 
most bough,  began  to  show  off  all  her 
airs,  when  suddenly  the  sharp  crack 
of  a  gun  was  heard,  and  the  silly  bird 
fell  dead. 

MORAL.  —  "  Pride  goeth  before  des- 
truction, and  an  haughty  spirit  be- 
fore a  fall."  KETA. 

For  the  Wreath. 

Miss  EDITOR  : — I  feel  slighted.  You 
are  all  writing  for  the  "  Wreath,"  but 
not  a  soul  of  you  has  asked  me  to 
contribute  to  your  interesting  paper. 
Why  is  this  ?  Ilave  I  not  heard  some 
of  you  say  that  I  know  as  much  as 
many  human  bipeds  of  the  same  age  ? 
Do  n't  I  understand  almost  everything 
that  you  say  to  me  ?  And  if  I  only 
could  talk,  would  n't  I  rattle  away  as 
fast  as  any  of  you  ?  I  bet  I  would. 
If  I  do  n't  talk,  it  is  n't  because  I've 
got  no  ideas,  depend  on  that.  But 
you  see  I  can  write,  although  perhaps 
you  did  not  know  it.  But  fearing  I 
am  an  intruder,  I  will  stop. 

ROVEB. 

For  the  Wreath. 

The  Snow. 

Hurrah!  The  snow  has  come!— 
Now  won't  we  have  fine  times !  I 
like  to  fee  it  come  thick  and  fast,  and 
bury  everything  up.  How  curious  it 
is,  to  see  the  woods,  and  fences,  and 
stones,  and  roots,  and  fields,  and  hills, 
covered  over  with  the  pure  white 
gnow!  What  fun  it  is  to  roll  and 
tumble  in  it !  I  like  to  have  the  roads 
all  blocked  up,  so  that  we  can't  get 
anywhere,  not  even  to  school.  Then 
what  fun  it  is  to  break  out  the  ways  ! 
We  have  a  large  sled,  with  a  plough 
lashed  to  the  off  side.  Then  we  hitch 
on  six  or  eight  yoke  of  oxen,  and  are 
200 


ready  for  a  start.  The  boys  load  up 
the  sled,  and  a  lot  of  men  go  ahead 
to  shovel  through  the  deep  drifts,  and 
so  we  go  all  over  town  till  the  rouda 
are  broken  out.  KON. 

For  the  Wreath. 

A  Cunning  FtlLw. 

The  summer  that  I  lived  in  Brook- 
dale,  I  was  one  day  iu  the  woods,  with 
my  cousin  Jerry,  and  another  boy, 
named  Clinton,  when  we  found  a  fox's 
hole.  We  began  to  dig  her  out ;  but 
when  we  got  to  the  end  of  the  hole,  we 
found  nothing.  Clinton  said  he  had 
known  a  fox  to  bank  herself  up  in  a 
separate  cell,  when  her  hoie  was  in- 
vaded ;  and  we  determined  to  see  if 
our  fox  had  not  served  us  so.  We 
dug,  and  soon  found  eight  little  ones, 
all  stowed  away  in  a  cell  by  them- 
selves. We  then  tried  to  find  the  old 
one,  but  could  not  So  we  took  the 
little  ones  and  started  off;  but  on 
looking  back  we  paw  the  o'd  fox  dart 
out  of  the  hole  and  disujijieiir.  \Ve 
went  back  to  examine  the  hole  again, 
and  found  that  she  had  a  si-|  arate  cell 
for  herself,  which  t-scapnl  <  ur  search. 
So  she  saved  her  own  life,  but  she  lost 
her  little  ones.  OSCAR, 


Digest  what  you  read.  It  is  not 
what  you  eat  but  what  you  digest  that 
gives  nourishment  to  the  body  :  so 
with  the  mind.  Young  people  .'<>me- 
times  run  through  a  book,  and  are  not 
able  to  tell  afterwards  what  they  have 
been  reading. 

"  John,"  said  the  schoolmaster, 
"  you  will  soon  be  a  man,  and  will 
have  to  do  business.  What  do  you 
suppose  you  will  do  when  you  have  to 
write  letters,  unless  you  learn  to  fpttl, 
better  ?"  "  0,  sir,  I  shall  put  easy 
words  in  them." 

"Dick,  I  say,  why  don't  you  turn 
the  bnffnlo  robe  t'o'her  side  out?  — 
hair  is  the  warmest." 

"  Bah,  Tom,  you  get,  out.  Do  you 
suppose  the  animal  himself  did  n't 
know  how  to  wear  nis  hide  ? " 


CHAPTER  Xin. 


MASTER  PAGE. 

O  impatient 
was  Ronald 
to  enter  upon 
his  academic  ca- 
reer, that  he  had 
his  school  books 
and  his  slate  all 
ready  for  a  start, 
Saturday  after- 
noon. On  going  up  to  his  chamber,  later  in  the 
day,  he  was  pleasantly  surprised  to  find  a  nice  new 
satchel  upon  his  table,  which  his  mother  had  made 
for  him,  as  a  birth-day  present.  He  packed  his 
books  into  it,  and  swung  it  over  his  shoulder,  and 
walked  back  and  forth,  to  see  how  it  would  seem. 


2U2     THE  ACADEMY  COMMENCES. 

While  he  was  thus  indulging  in  pleasant  anticipa- 
tions, his  room-mate,  Otis,  was  undergoing  a  very 
different  experience.  Entering  the  chamber,  with- 
out noticing  Ronald,  he  threw  himself  upon  the 
bed,  and  burst  into  tears.  Ronald  did  not  need  to 
inquire  what  ailed  him.  His  parents  had  that  after- 
noon made  their  promised  visit  to  Kate  and  Otis, 
and  had  just  started  for  home,  .and  the  poor  boy 
was  consequently  suffering  from  that  most  distress- 
ing malady  of  the  mind  —  home-sickness.  Ro- 
nald's efforts  to  enliven  him  proved  unavailing,  and 
he  was  reluctantly  compelled  to  leave  him  to  his 
grief,  which  did  not  wholly  subside  until  sleep  came 
to  his  relief. 

On  Monday  morning,  more  than  half  an  hour 
before  the  first  stroke  of  the  academy  bell  was 
heard,  Ronald  was  busily  engaged  in  hurrying  up 
his  academical  associates,  whose  moderation  in  get- 
ing  themselves  ready  for  the  day's  business  seemed 
to  him  almost  too  bad  to  be  patiently  endured. 
However,  contrary  to  his  predictions,  all  arrived  at 
the  academy  in  good  season,  though  they  went  in 
straggling  parties  —  for  it  was  the  preference  of  all 
to  walk,  rather  than  ride,  when  the  weather  and 


TALKING     OVEK    MATTERS.  203 

the  roads  permitted.     Of  course,  they  carried  their 
dinners. 

At  five  minutes  before  nine  o'clock  the  bell 
sounded,  and  the  scholars  and  teachers  assembled 
in  the  school-room.  The  forenoon  was  spent  in 
taking  the  names  of  the  pupils,  assigning  seats, 
forming  classes,  giving  out  lessons,  and  in  general 
remarks  to  the  students  on  the  purpose  for  which 
they  had  assembled,  and  the  duties  which  they 
were  expected  to  perform.  Most  of  the  prelimi- 
nary matters  were  settled,  in  the  forenoon,  and  the 
regular  studies  commenced  with  the  afternoon  ses- 

O 

sion. 

The  incidents  of  the  day  afforded  plenty  of  topics 
for  conversation  to  Marcus  and  the  students  from 
his  family,  as  they  proceeded  home,  at  night.  Gen- 
eral satisfaction  was  expressed  that  one  of  the  mon- 
itors' desks,  overlooking  a  division  of  the  smaller 
boys,  had  been  assigned  to  Oscar.  This  arrange- 
ment seemed  peculiarly  gratifying  to  Ronald  and 
Otis,  who  thus  came  under  his  oversight,  and  who 
smiled  incredulously,  when  he  declared  that  he 
should  keep  a  particularly  sharp  eye  upon  them.  Os- 
car expressed  himself  as  much  pleased  with  the  pre- 


204  BEQUESTS      DEFIED. 

ceptor,  Mr.  Upton.  Kate,  who  had  been  promoted 
to  the  highest  class,  and  was  in  excellent  spirits, 
said  she  always  admired  Mr.  Upton,  and  thought 
she  should  rather  like  his  new  assistant,  Mr.  Pa^e. 

'  O 

Otis  and  Ronald,  on  the  other  hand,  were  a  little 
disappointed  because  Marcus  had  disregarded  their 
joint  request,  that  they  might  sit  together,  and  had 
placed  them  so  far  apart  that  any  intercourse  during 
school  hours,  except  by  means  of  winks,  signs  and 
paper  "  spit  balls,"  would  be  out  of  the  question. 
The  reason  Marcus  gave  for  this  refusal,  —  the  fear 
that  they  would  have  too  good  a  time  together,  — • 
was  not  very  consoling  to  the  boys.  Instead  of 
Otis,  Ronald  had  for  his  nearest  comrade  the  boy 
who  blotted  his  writing-book  at  the  district  school, 
Lewis  Daniels.  Both  Marcus  and  Ronald,  how- 
ever, treated  Lewis  with  kindness,  and  tried  to 
make  him  forget  the  injury  he  had  inflicted  iipon 
the  latter. 

The  ardor  with  which  Ronald  set  out  for  school 
in  the  morning  was  a  little  dampened  by  one  or 
two  other  incidents  that  occurred  during  the  day. 
At  noon,  as  he  approached  a  group  of  large  boys, 
he  heard  one  of  them  say  — 


THE    L  A  K  G  E     BOYS.  205 

"I  don't  care  for  Marcus  Page  —  he's  nothing 
but  a  boy,  himself.  He  was  a  scholar,  here,  for  a 
year  or  more  after  I  joined  the  academy." 

On  turning  round,  and  seeing  Ronald  near,  the 
large  boy  added  — 

"  Here,  you  youngster,  you  need  n't  go  and  tell 
Page  everything  you  hear,  because  you  happen  to 
live  with  him ;  because  if  you  do,  you  '11  be  sorry 
for  it." 

Ronald  had  no  heart  to  report  this  conversation 
to  Marcus,  though  he  cared  nothing  for  the  threat. 
His  ears  tingled,  however,  to  hear  Marcus  spoken 
of  in  this  way,  and  from  that  moment  he  felt  a 
strong  dislike  towards  the  boy  in  question,  who, 
to  do  him  justice,  was  not  so  bad  as  he  seemed,  but 
only  had  an  unhappy  habit  of  saying  more  than  he 
felt,  and  threatening  more  than  he  was  willing  to 
perform. 

Another  large  boy,  —  a  mischievous  but  not  ill- 
meaning  fellow,  —  annoyed  Ronald  a  good  deal  by 
applying  to  him  the  nickname  Frenchy,  and  telling 
him  he  had  got  to  wear  it  as  his  "  academical  name." 
Ronald  reported  this  to  Marcus ;  but  the  latter  ad- 
vised him  to  take  no  notice  of  the  affair,  telling  him 
18 


206  JESSIE     HAP  LEY. 

that  the  inventor  of  the  nickname  would  probably 
soon  forget  all  about  it,  if  he  saw  that  it  did  not 
trouble  Ronald. 

"  Who  would  have  thought  of  seeing  Jessie  Hap- 
ley  in  the  academy!"  exclaimed  Kate,  as  they 
were  walking  home.  "  I  declare,  I  never  was 
more  surprised  in  my  life  —  they  are  so  poor,  you 
know." 

"  But  Jessie  is  a  very  fine  girl,  if  she  is  poor," 
said  Marcus. 

"O,  yes,  I  like  her  very  much,"  promptly  re- 
sponded Kate;  "and  I'm  glad  she  is  going  to 
school  Avith  us ;  but  I  did  n't  suppose  her  father 
could  afford  to  send  her." 

"  She  earned  the  money  herself,  to  pay  for  her  tui- 
tion," added  Marcus.  "She  sees  she  has  got  to 
support  herself,  if  not  the  rest  of  the  family,  and 
she  is  anxious  to  qualify  herself  for  teaching.  She 
thinks  she  is  better  adapted  to  that  business  than 
to  any  other,  and  I  think  so,  too.  She  is  an  excel- 
lent scholar,  and  you  will  have  to  look  out  for 
your  laurels,  Kate,  now  that  she  is  in  school." 

"  Well,  she  is  older  than  I  am,"  said  Kate,  quite 
unconcerned. 


ABBY     LEONARD.  207 

"  Only  a  few  months,"  added  Marcus ;  "  besides, 
her  school  privileges  have  been  very  limited,  com- 
pared with  yours." 

"  No  matter,  I  do  n't  think  I  shall  be  jealous  of 
her,"  replied  Kate.  "  I  always  did  like  Jessie,  and 
if  any  girl  is  going  to  excel  me,  I  'd  rather  it  should 
be  her  than  any  one  else.  But  Abby  Leonard  de- 
clares that  she  wont  associate  with  her.  She  says 
she  hates  to  see  a  poor  girl  all  the  time  '  trying  to 
be  somebody.'" 

"  I  am  afraid  Abby  is  not  so  wise  as  she  might 
be,  if  she  has  enjoyed  the  advantages  of  city  soci- 
ety," observed  Marcus. 

"  Do  you  know  what  she  does  to  make  herself 
look  pale  and  slender?  "  inquired  Kate.  "  She  eats 
chalk,  and  slate  pencils,  and  drinks  lots  of  vinegar. 
She  advised  me  to  try  it,  because  I  'm  so  plump. 
She  thinks  it  does  n't  look  interesting  and  genteel, 
to  be  fat." 

"  I  hope  you  wont  follow  her  advice,  unless  you 
Avish  to  ruin  your  health,"  replied  Marcus.  "  I  shall 
have  to  speak  to  her  about  this  subject  —  she  has 
fallen  into  a  very  dangerous  practice,  as  well  as  a 
foolish  theory.  In  fact,  if  she  consumes  those  ar- 


208  ALARMING    PROPOSAL. 

tides  to  any  extent,  she  is  committing  suicide, 
whether  she  knows  it  or  not." 

The  current  of  events  continued  to  flow  on 
smoothly  day  after  day,  at  the  academy,  until  one 
morning,  when  the  principal  failed  to  appear.  Mar- 
cus  opened  the  session,  at  the  usual  hour,  and  soon 
after  received  a  note  from  Mr.  Upton,  stating  that 
he  was  ill,  and  unable  to  be  present.  Marcus  con- 
ducted the  school  through  the  day,  with  very  good 
success,  and  before  returning  home,  called  upon  his 
associate,  whom  he  found  prostrated  with  an  illness 
which  would  probably  detain  him  from  his  labors 
for  several  weeks. 

"  I  do  not  see  but  that  you  will  have  to  take  my 
place,  for  a  week  or  two,  Marcus,"  said  Mr.  Upton. 
"  We  have  got  well  under  way,  and  everything  is 
going  on  smoothly,  so  that  I  think  you  and  Miss 
Tillotson  can  manage  matters  very  well,  for  a  little 
while." 

Marcus  shook  his  head,  and  looked  somewhat 
alarmed,  at  this  proposition.  Nor  was  he  slow  in 
making  known  his  objections.  He  had  had  little 
experience  in  teaching,  even  the  simpler  branches, 
and  as  to  the  higher  studies,  lie  was  appalled  by 


MAKCUS    AS    PRINCIPAL.  209 

what  he  considered  his  lack  of  qualifications.  Then 
how  could  lie,  an  inexperienced  youth,  maintain 
the  discipline  of  such  a  school,  composed  in  part 
of  pupils  as  old  as  himself,  some  of  whom  had  been 
his  school-mates  a  year  previous?  Mr.  Upton, 
however,  did  not  give  much  heed  to  these  objec- 
tions. He  did  not  doubt  Marcus's  qualifications  to 
teach  any  of  the  branches,  and  as  to  the  discipline, 
if  he  experienced  any  trouble,  the  trustees  would 
give  him  all  necessary  aid.  As  it  would  be  im- 
practicable to  make  any  other  arrangement,  at  least 
for  a  week  or  two,  Marcus  at  length  consented  to 
assume  this  new  responsibility. 

The  next  morning,  Marcus  informed  the  scholars 
of  the  new  duties  that  had  devolved  upon  him,  and 
expressed  his  determination  to  do  his  best  to  make 
good  their  preceptor's  place,  at  the  same  tune  solic- 
iting their  aid  and  co-operation  in  the  work.  "With 
now  and  then  a  trifling  exception,  the  school  was 
as  orderly  and  quiet  as  usual,  and  Marcus  was  soon 
satisfied  that  the  public  sentiment  of  his  charge 
was  on  his  side,  and  would  sustain  him  in  his  posi- 
tion. This  was  especially  true  of  the  older  schol- 
ars, of  whom  he  had  most  stood  in  doubt.  Appre- 
18* 


210  TROUBLESOME    BOYS. 

elating  the  value  of  their  privileges,  even  the  least 
sedate  of  them,  had  no  inclination  to  come  in  col- 
lision with  their  young  teacher,  for  whom,  indeed, 
they  all  felt  some  degree  of  esteem,  as  a  personal 
friend.  Neither  did  the  younger  pupils  manifest 
any  disposition  to  question  his  authority.  Two 
days'  experience  satisfied  Marcus  that  the  only 
pupils  from  whom,  he  had  reason  to  anticipate 
trouble  were  three  or  four  boys,  some  thirteen  or 
fourteen  years  old ;  and  he  had  no  doubt  that  he 
should  be  able  to  bring  these  turbulent  spirits  into 
subjection,  in  a  few  days. 

These  troublesome  boys  happened  to  be  seated 
together,  near  the  back  part  of  the  room,  and  at 
times  they  created  some  little  disturbance  in  that 
quarter.  Before  dismissing  school  at  night,  Marcus 
pleasantly  informed  them,  separately,  that  he  pro- 
posed to  re-seat  some  of  the  boys,  and  then  pro- 
ceeded to  arrange  such  an  exchange  of  desks  as 
brought  them  nearer  to  his  platform,  and  at  the 
same  time  scattered  them  apart.  One  or  two  of 
the  worst  of  them,  by  this  change,  were  brought 
under  the  monitorial  eye  of  Oscar. 

Marcus  now  made  it  a  special  object  to  secure 


THE     SXOW     STATUE.  211 

the  confidence  and  good-will  of  the  more  unruly 
part  of  his  charge.  One  noon,  he  saw  several  of 
his  most  troublesome  boys  at  work  upon  a  snow 
figure,  in  the  grove  back  of  the  academy.  He  ap- 
proached them,  and,  commending  their  skilful 
workmanship,  soon  drew  them  into  a  pleasant  con- 
versation. As  he  watched  the  growing  statue,  he 
observed  that  the  credit  belonged  mainly  to  one 
of  the  lads,  named  Charles  Wilder,  who  directed 
the  labor  of  the  others.  Marcus  had  noticed  that 
this  boy  exercised  a  good  deal  of  influence  over 
his  comrades;  but  in  the  school-room  he  was 
rather  inattentive  to  his  lessons,  and  inclined  to 
mischief. 

"  Charlie 's  the  boy  for  this  kind  of  work,"  said 
one  of  the  lads,  addressing  Marcus. 

"  Yes,  I  see  he  understands  it,"  replied  Marcus. 
"You  have  quite  an  artist's  eye,  Charlie.  Where 
did  you  learn  so  much  about  modelling  ?  " 

"  O,  I  do  n't  know  much  about  it — all  I  do  know 
came  natural  to  me,"  replied  the  boy. 

"  I  remember  seeing  an  account  of  a  young  man 
in  this  State,"  said  Marcus,  "who  made  a  statue 
of  snow  and  ice  that  was  so  beautiful,  that  a  rich 


21'2  SCULPTURE. 

gentleman  ordered  a  copy  of  it  in  marble.  Per- 
haps you  will  be  as  fortunate  as  he,  one  of  these 
days." 

"I  mean  to  be  a  sculptor,  some  time  or  other," 
replied  Charles,  his  face  lighting  up  with  an  expres- 
sive smile. 

"  I  suppose  it 's  hard  work  to  make  a  statue,  is  n't 
it  ?  "  inquired  one  of  the  boys. 

"No,  I  don't  know  as  it  is  exactly  what  you 
would  call  hard  work,  but  it  requires  a  good  deal 
of  skill,  and  taste,  and  genius,  to  make  a  fine  statue," 
replied  Marcus. 

"O,  I  suppose  they  have  plenty  of  tools,  and 
pound  it  out,"  observed  another  boy. 

"  Pound  out  your  grandma'am  with  tools,  just  as 
much ! "  exclaimed  Charles,  with  a  glance  of  min- 
gled pity  and  indignation  at  the  boy  who  held  this 
degraded  view  of  the  beautiful  art  to  which  his 
soul  was  thus  early  wedded. 

"  You  must  be  somewhat  proficient  in  drawing, 
Charlie,  to  design  such  a  statue  as  this,"  resumed 
Marcus. 

"  I  'm  very  fond  of  drawing,  but  I  do  n't  know, 
much  about  it,"  replied  Charles. 


DRAWING.  213 

"  You  arc  not  taking  lessons  in  drawing,  I  be- 
lieve ?  "  inquired  Marcus. 

"  No,  sir ;  I  wanted  to,  but  father  said  it  was  of 
no  use,"  replied  Charles. 

"I  think  it  woidd\)e  of  use,"  said  Marcus;  "that 
is,  if  you  have  as  much  taste  for  it  as  I  think  you 
have.  I  Mrish  you  would  let  me  see  one  of  your 
drawings,  —  perhaps  I  could  persuade  your  father 
to  let  you  take  lessons,  if  I  think  it  worth 
while." 

"  I  Ve  got  one  in  my  desk  —  I  '11  ran  and  get  it," 
said  Charles;  and  he  darted  off,  soon  returning 
with  a  very  neatly  executed  drawing  of  a  dog  hunt- 
ing a  stag,  which  he  had  copied  with  much  skill  from 
an  engraving. 

"  That  is  very  creditable  to  you  —  very  much  so," 
said  Marcus,  as  he  examined  the  picture.  "You 
certainly  have  a  taste  for  drawing,  and  your  father 
must  let  you  take  lessons  of  Miss  Tillotson.  I 
will  speak  to  him  about  it,  this  week." 

The  young  artist  looked  pleased  and  grateful, 
and  Marcus  left  him,  not  only  feeling  a  new  interest 
in  the  boy,  but  with  a  firm  persuasion  that  he  should 
have  no  further  trouble  with  him. 


214 


THE     STAG     HUNT 


The  above  is  a  representation  of  Charles's 
drawing.  Marcus  took  the  trouble  to  call  upon  Mr. 
"Wilder,  that  afternoon,  and  after  a  little  persuasion 
obtained  permission  for  Charles  to  take  drawing 
lessons. 

A  day  or  two  after  this,  Marcus  found  on  his 
desk,  one  morning,  an  anonymous  note,  which  read 
as  follows :  — 


A    COMPLAINT.  215 

"To  MASTER  PAGE  :  — I  think  it  is  too  bad  that 
some  of  the  scholars  should  be  allowed  to  have 
keys  to  their  arithmetics,  when  it  is  agaiiist  the 
rules.  Fair  play  is  a  jewel.  This  is  from 

OXE  WHO  KNOWS." 

Marcus  was  for  a  time  in  doubt  what  to  do  in 
relation  to  this  complaint.  The  anonymous  char- 
acter of  the  note  deprived  it  of  all  claim  upon  his 
attention  ;  and  its  apparently  implied  censure  upon 
him  for  something  of  which  he  had  no  knowledge, 
rendered  it  still  more  objectionable.  After  reflec- 
tion, however,  he  determined  to  investigate  the  mat- 
ter at  once,  leaving  to  a  future  occasion  some  re- 
marks to  the  school  on  the  impropriety  and  mean- 
ness of  writing  anonymous  letters  of  complaint. 
He  accordingly  remarked  to  the  school :  — 

"  I  have  been  informed  that  some  of  the  scholars 
have  keys  to  their  arithmetics.  I  wish  all  such 
would  rise." 

Much  to  his  surprise,  Oscar  promptly  arose,  and 
said :  — 

"  I  have  a  key,  but  I  have  made  no  improper  use 
of  it.  I  do  all  my  sums  before  I  look  at  the  an- 
swers." 


216  OSCAR    KEBUKED. 

"Did  you  not  know  that  it  is  contrary  to  the 
rules  for  any  scholar  to  have  a  key  ?  "  said  Marcus. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  Oscar. 

"That  is  sufficient,"  said  Marcus.  "You  have  vio- 
lated one  of  our  rules,  whatever  use  you  may  have 
made  of  the  key.  If  you  have  it  here,  you  may 
deliver  it  up." 

Oscar  obeyed  the  order,  his  appearance  indicat- 
ing that  he  felt  the  mild  rebuke  rather  keenly.  It 
is  due  to  him  to  say,  that  with  this  exception,  his 
conduct  in  school  had  thus  far  been  quite  exem- 
plary, and  his  progress  in  his  studies  commendable. 

After  Ronald  had  become  somewhat  familiar 
with  the  school,  he  found  it  rather  difficult  to 
wholly  repress  the  promptings  to  fun  within  him. 
During  the  first  week  of  the  principal's  absence, 
Marcus  had  occasion  to  reprove  him  several  times, 
privately,  for  offences  of  this  kind,  and  on  one  oc- 
casion, detained  him  after  school,  as  a  punishment. 
One  afternoon,  as  Marcus  was  hearing  a  class  recite, 
he  was  startled  by  one  of  his  most  quiet  boys  cry- 
ing out: — 

"You  quit  that!" 

"  What  is  the  matter,  Edmund  ?  "  inquired  Marcus. 


RONALD     PUNISHED.  217 

The  boy,  coloring  deeply  replied :  — 
"Ronald  has  been  snapping  nut-shells  at  me  for 
half  an  hour,  and  he  just  hit  me  in  the  eye  with 
one.    I  was  very  busy  ciphering,  and  I  spoke  be- 
fore I  thought.     I  forgot  I  was  in  school." 

Ronald  was  called  out,  a  handful  of  nuts  was 
transferred  from  his  pocket  to  the  teacher's  desk, 
and  he  was  then  directed  to  stand  upon  the  plat- 
form facing  the  school,  until  he  had  committed  to 
memory  a  page  from  a  geography  used  by  another 
class.  In  all  this  Marcus  was  as  calm  and  mild  as 
usual ;  but  nevertheless,  Ronald  did  not  feel  very 
pleasantly,  as  he  took  his  position  and  commenced 
his  task,  though  the  punishment  was  not  what  he 
feared  it  would  be,  when  called  out.  His  mortifi- 
cation was  not  a  little  increased,  when,  after  recit- 
ing the  task,  Marcus  assigned  him  a  new  seat, 
directly  under  his  own  eye.  Ronald  avoided  all 
company,  on  his  way  home,  that  afternoon,  and 
seemed  especially  anxious  to  keep  out  of  the  reach 
of  Marcus,  through  the  rest  of  the  day.  Marcus, 
however,  had  something  to  say  to  Ronald,  and  after 
tea  he  found  an  opportunity  to  say  it. 

"  Ronald,"  he  said,  "  I  have  been  thinking  that  I 
10 


218  AX    INC  li  EASE    OF     STUDIES. 

had  better  increase  your  lessons  a  little.  I  am 
afraid  you  are  getting  along  too  easily  at  school." 

"  Why,  I  think  our  lessons  are  pretty  hard,"  re- 
plied Ronald,  somewhat  surprised. 

"  They  are  hard  enough  for  most  of  your  class, 
but  you  learn  so  readily  that  I  shall  have  to  give 
you  some  extra  tasks,"  added  Marcus. 

"  I  do  n't  think  that  is  fair,"  replied  Ronald.  "  If 
I  get  all  the  lessons  that  the  others  do,  I  should 
think  that  is  enough." 

"  If  your  lessons  are  so  easy  that  you  learn  them 
without  much  effort,"  continued  Marcus,  "  you  are 
missing  the  real  end  of  going  to  school.  It  is  not 
the  chief  aim  of  education  to  give  a  child  a  smat- 
tering of  knowledge,  but  the  object  should  be  to 
discipline  his  mind,  and  that  cannot  be  done  with- 
out real  tasks  —  lessons  that  will  make  him  study 
hard,  and  think  closely.  He  needs  something  to 
rouse  him  to  exertion,  and  then  he  will  begin  to 
find  out  what  his  powers  are.  I  think  I  shall  let 
you  study  book-keeping  and  algebra,  with  the  third 
class,  in  addition  to  your  other  lessons." 

"  Well,  if  you  think  best,  I  will  try  it,"  said  Ro- 
nald. 


OTIS.  219 

"  I  have  another  reason  for  this,"  added  Marcus. 
"  You  have  too  many  idle  moments,  now.  Your 
lessons  are  not  hard  enough  to  keep  you  out  of 
mischief.  I  shall  have  to  increase  them  until  you 
have  no  time  for  idleness  or  mischief  during  study 
hours." 

Marcus  imposed  the  additional  studies  upon 
Ronald,  the  next  day.  The  salutary  effects  of  this, 
and  of  the  incidents  of  the  previous  afternoon,  were 
soon  apparent.  He  was  careful,  however,  not  to 
overtask  the  boy's  powers,  which  would  have  been 
a  greater  evil  than  the  opposite  error. 

"With  Otis,  Marcus  found  a  different  course  of 
management  necessary.  He  was  more  quiet  and 
orderly  in  school  than  Ronald,  but  less  perfect  in 
his  lessons.  Indeed,  he  was  not  remarkably  fond 
of  study,  and  needed  a  little  spurring,  now  and 
then,  to  prevent  his  falling  below  the  average  of 
his  class.  One  afternoon,  as  he  was  walking  home 
with  Marcus,  he  said :  — 

"  I  can't  get  that  sixth  sum  right,  any  way.  I  've 
tried  it  half  a  dozen  times,  and  I  get  it  exactly  the 
same  every  time.  The  answer  in  the  book  must 
be  wrong,  for  I  know  I  did  it  right.  I  did  the 


220  A    HARD     SUM. 

other  sums  in  just  the  same  way,  and  they  came 
right." 

"  You  are  wrong,"  replied  Marcus,  "  for  I  happen 
to  know  that  the  answer  in  the  book  is  right- 
Georgianna  Ellis  came  to  me  this  afternoon  with 
the  same  story.  She  thought  the  answer  in  the 
book  was  a  mistake.  But  I  did  the  sum,  and  found 
it  right." 

"  How  did  you  do  it  ?  "  inquired  Otis. 

"That  is  for  you  to  find  out  yourself,  if  you  can," 
replied  Marcus,  with  a  significant  accent  upon  the 
last  clause  of  the  sentence. 

"Didn't  you  show  Georgianna  how  to  do  it?" 
inquired  Otis. 

"  No,"  replied  Marcus ;  "  I  told  her  to  read  over 
the  question  carefully,  and  then  to  keep  trying  upon 
it  until  she  got  the  right  solution." 

"  Did  she  get  it  ?  "  inquired  Otis. 

"  I  do  not  know,"  replied  Marcus ;  "  but  if  she 
has  not  found  out  her  error,  I  have  no  doubt  she 
will." 

"Then  I  suppose  you  think  I  can  do  the  sum, 
if  I  keep  trying,"  said  Otis. 

"  I  have  some  doubts  about  that,"  replied  Marcus. 


AN"    UNPLEASANT    DOUBT.  221 

"  I  suppose  I  ought  to  give  you  the  same  direction 
that  I  gave  Georgianna ;  but  I  have  little  faith  that 
you  would  be  successful,  after  all." 

"  Why  could  n't  I  find  out  the  answer,  if  she 
can?  "  inquired  Otis. 

"  There  is  a  great  difference  in  scholars,"  replied 
Marcus.  "  Some  are  careful,  and  examine  every- 
thing very  closely,  when  they  meet  a  difficulty, 
while  others  blunder  about  without  much  thought. 
Some  have  great  perseverance,  and  others  are 
quickly  discouraged.  And  then  some  do  not  seem 
to  have  much  sense,  or  if  they  have,  they  don't 
exercise  it." 

Otis  did  not  push  his  inquiries  any  further,  and 
the  subject  was  dropped.  The  stimulus  of  shame, 
judiciously  applied,  is  sometimes  effective  when 
other  means  fail,  and  so  it  proved  in  this  case.  Otis 
was  not  discouraged  by  what  Marcus  said,  but  was 
incited  by  it  to  a  new  and  more  earnest  effort.  He 
solved  the  problem^  unaided,  and  so  derived  more 
real  benefit  from  this  one  puzzling  question  than 
from  all  the  others  in  the  day's  lesson,  which  he 
performed  without  difficulty. 
19* 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

THE    TROUBLESOME    SCHOLAR. 

rTlHERE  was  one  boy  in  the  academy  who  still 
caused  Marcus  no  little  anxiety.  His  name  was 
Harrison  Clark,  and  he  was  about  fourteen  years  old, 
and  large  for  his  age.  This  was  his  first  term  at  the 
academy.  He  was  from  an  adjoining  town,  and 
but  little  was  known  of  him,  except  what  he  him- 
self chose  to  divulge.  The  achievement  of  his  short 
life  upon  which  he  seemed  to  pride  himself  most,  was 
a  fight  he  had  with  his  former  teacher,  a  month  or 
two  before  this,  in  which,  according  to  his  represen- 
tation, he  came  off  victor ;  and  he  had  been  heard 
to  threaten  a  similar  infliction  upon  Marcus,  should 
that  personage  attempt  to  chastise  him.  One  or 
two  of  the  elder  pupils  were  anxious  that  the  inso- 
lence of  this  pert  young  gentleman  should  be 


HARRISON'S    CAREER.  223 

checked  by  a  sound  thrashing,  and  they  even  inti- 
mated to  the  teacher  that  aid  would  not  be  want- 
ing, in  case  the  boy  should  offer  serious  resistance. 
But  Marcus  thought  there  was  a  more  excellent 
way  to  subdue  him,  and  determined  to  try  it,  before 
resorting  to  harsh  measures. 

Marcus  happened  one  day  to  fall  in  with  a  towns- 
man of  Harrison,  from  whom  he  gathered  all  the 
inforrnatidn  he  could  in  regard  to  the  career  and 
character  of  the  boy.  It  appeared  that  he  had 
been  governed  with  severity,  both  at  home  and  at 
school,  so  far  as  he  had  been  governed  at  all.  He 
had  steadily  grown  worse,  however,  under  this  dis- 
cipline, and  his  parents,  finding  they  could  do  noth- 
ing with  him,  had  sent  him  away  to  school,  as  the 
easiest  way  to  rid  themselves  of  a  constant  trou- 
ble. They  were  finally  led  to  this  course,  by  his 
altercation  with  his  teacher.  Several  boys,  it 
seemed,  got  into  a  wild  frolic  in  the  school-room, 
one  day,  before  the  opening  of  the  session,  in  the 
course  of  which  Harrison  threw  an  inkstand  at  an- 
other lad,  by  which  his  face  and  clothes  were  stained, 
and  the  walls,  floor,  and  seats  soiled.  The  teacher, 
after  investigating  the  matter,  ordered  Harrison  to 


224  THE     A  F  F  B  A  Y  . 

hold  out  his  hand  for  punishment,  which  he  refused 
to  do,  in  an  insolent  manner.  The  teacher  then 
attempted  to  seize  his  hand,  but  failing  in  this,  he 
tripped  the  boy  upon  the  floor,  and  a  regular  scuf- 
fle ensued.  Another  boy,  still  larger  than  Harri- 
son, now  rushed  to  the  assistance  of  the  latter, 
and  before  the  disgraceful  affray  ended,  they  in- 
flicted two  or  three  serious  blows  upon  the  teacher, 
and  then  fled.  They  were  both  arrested  for  as- 
sault, and  after  a  trial  before  a  justice,  were  fined, 
Harrison  ten  dollars  and  the  other  boy  five,  besides 
the  cost  of  the  trial,  which  was  divided  between 
them.  While  it  must  be  confessed  that  their  pun- 
ishment was  just,  I  think  few  will  deny  that  the 
teacher  also  was  to  be  blamed  for  the  part  he  acted 
in  the  affray. 

"  Now  can't  you  tell  me  something  good  about 
Harrison  ?  "  inquired  Marcus,  after  listening  to  the 
foregoing  recital.  "  I  believe  there  is  always  some 
good  trait  in  every  person,  however  bad." 

"  Well,"  replied  the  other, "  I  'm  thinking  it  would 
be  rather  hard  to  find  anything  very  good  about 
that  chap.  I  do  n't  think  he 's  very  hardened  yet, 
but  there's  precious  little  goodness  about  him,  I 


ODD    AND    UGLY.  225 

can  tell  you.  He  thinks  a  good  deal  of  his  mother, 
and  that 's  the  best  thing  I  ever  saw  about  him.  And 
he  ought  to  like  her,  for  she 's  a  right  down  good 
woman  —  only  she's  one  of  your  easy,  gentle  sort, 
that  ought  n't  to  have  anything  to  do  with  such  a 
young  scapegrace  as  he  is." 

Although  Harrison  had  made  himself  sufficiently 
troublesome  in  the  school-room,  he  had  thus  far 
avoided  all  flagrant  offences.  He  manifested  his 
disposition  by  an  air  of  quiet  insolence  and  defiance, 
and  by  petty  acts  of  annoyance,  too  trivial  for 
serious  notice,  even  could  they  be  proved  against 
him,  which  was  seldom  the  case.  It  was  evident, 
however,  that  he  was  becoming  emboldened  by 
the  absence  of  restraints  and  punishments  with 
which  he  had  been  familiar  in  school,  and  Marcus 
looked  forward  Avith  some  solicitude  to  the  certainty 
of  an  open  collision  with  him,  which  day  by  day 
seemed  more  imminent.  Meanwhile,  the  attempts 
of  Marcus  to  win  him  over  by  kindness  were  not 
very  well  rewarded.  If  he  spoke  kindly  to  the  boy 
on  the  play-ground  or  at  his  desk,  he  got  no  pleas- 
ant word  or  grateful  look,  in  return.  If  he  tried  to 
draw  him  into  conversation,  the  responses  came 


226  COUGHING. 

grudgingly  in  monosyllables.  On  Saturday,  he  in- 
vited Harrison  to  come  over  to  pass  the  afternoon 
with  him  and  the  children ;  but  the  boy  did  not 
come  ;  worse  yet,  he  did  not  say  whether  lie  would 
or  not ;  and  still  worse,  he  expressed  no  thanks  for 
the  invitation. 

One  cold  morning,  soon  after  the  school  opened, 
Marcus  was  somewhat  annoyed  by  the  coughing  of 
the  scholars  —  not  a  very  unusual  occurrence  at 
that  season.  Having  reduced  the  school  to  perfect 
silence,  so  that  the  falling  of  a  pin  might  have  been 
heard,  he  proceeded  to  say :  — 

"  I  notice  that  many  of  the  scholars  have  rather 
troublesome  coughs.  I  have  a  cold  myself,  and  I 
suppose  I  could  cough  as  hard  as  any  of  you,  if  I 
chose  to.  But  I  am  not  going  to  do  it.  There 
are  two  objections  to  coughing.  One  is,  it  is  inju- 
rious. The  effort  required  in  coughing  is  apt  to 
tear  the  delicate  fibres  of  the  lungs.  Sometimes 
people  burst  blood-vessels,  while  coughing,  and  die 
in  consequence.  The  other  objection  is,  it  is 
unpleasant  to  those  around  us,  especially  in  a 
school-room,  church,  or  other  public  assembly. 
Sometimes,  I  admit,  it  is  necessary  to  cough ;  but 


THE    BEARS.  227 

I  think  most  of  our  coughing  is  unnecessary.  By  a 
little  attention,  and  a  little  effort  of  the  will,  we  can 
prevent  it.  Now  I  propose  that  those  who  have 
colds  try  the  experiment  with  me,  and  we  will  see 
who  will  hold  out  longest  without  coughing." 

Marcus  had  no  sooner  closed,  than  Harrison  fell 
into  a  violent  fit  of  coughing,  which  it  was  evident 
to  all  was  feigned.  Some  of  the  younger  scholars 
smiled  at  this  ill-mannered  freak,  but  others  looked 
daggers  at  its  perpetrator.  Marcus  uttered  no  re- 
buke, but  the  eyes  of  the  rogue  fell  before  his  steady, 
quiet,  searching  look. 

A  day  or  two  after  this,  there  was  great  excite- 
ment in  the  village,  occasioned  by  the  discovery 
that  several  sheep  had  been  killed  by  bears,  the 
tracks  of  which  were  found  in  the  neighborhood  of 
"  Turkey  Hill."  The  presence  of  these  animals  in 
the  town  had  been  suspected  for  several  weeks,  but 
this  was  their  first  attack  upon  the  sheep-folds  of 
the  farmers.  Arrangements  were  at  once  made 
for  a  grand  bear  hunt,  the  next  afternoon,  and  all 
the  male  population,  above  fifteen  years  of  age, 
were  invited  to  take  part  in  it. 

Marcus  found,  the  next  morning,  that  most  of  his 


228  HARBISON'S  ESCAPE. 

boys  had  come  to  school  prepared  to  join  in  the 
hunt,  either  as  participants  or  spectators.  All  who 
could,  had  procured  guns,  and  as  the  lads  and  young 
men  lounged  around  the  academy,  in  groups,  ex- 
amining and  comparing  their  arms,  a  stranger  might 
have  suspected  the  existence  of  a  "  school  rebel- 
lion" of  a  really  startling  description.  But  Avhen 
the  bell  struck,  the  guns  were  peaceably  deposited 
in  the  ante-room,  and  the  school-room  assumed  its 
usual  quiet  aspect.  At  recess  several  of  the  boys 
were  dismissed,  having  brought  notes  from  home, 
requesting  Marcus  to  excuse  them  at  that  hour. 
Two  or  three  others  petitioned  for  a  similar  favor, 
but,  having  no  authority  from  their  parents  for 
making  the  request,  Marcus  felt  obliged  to  deny 
them.  He  did  this  the  more  easily,  because  he 
thought  the  request  a  needless  one.  The  hunting 
party  was  not  to  rendezvous  until  half  past  twelve 
o'clock  —  half  an  hour  after  the  session  closed  for 
the  day,  for  it  was  Saturday.  Nevertheless,  Har- 
rison Clark,  who  was  one  of  the  disappointed  appli- 
cants, appeared  to  think  differently ;  for  when  the 
boys  were  called  in  from  recess,  he  was  missing. 
On  looking  from  a  window,  Marcus  saw  him  stand- 


THE    RENDEZVOUS.  229 

ing,  gun  in  hand,  near  the  post  office,  where  a 
crowd  of  men  appeared  to  be  discussing  the  ar- 
rangements of  the  day.  One  of  the  large  scholars 
was  despatched  to  bring  the  runaway  back;  but 
Harrison  saw  the  young  man  approaching,  and 
mistrusting  his  errand,  took  to  his  heels,  and  made 
good  his  escape. 

At  twelve  o'clock  the  session  closed,  the  contents 
of  sundry  little  baskets  and  tin  pails  were  hurriedly 
disposed  of  for  the  benefit  of  the  inner  man,  and 
most  of  the  boys,  accompanied  by  their  teacher, 
then  proceeded  to  the  place  of  rendezvous.  After 
waiting  awhile  for  tardy  stragglers,  the  hunting 
party  was  found  to  muster  over  a  hundred  men 
and  boys,  all  armed.  An  experienced  hunter  was 
chosen  captain,  a  few  directions  were  given  to  the 
men,  and  the  line  of  march  was  then  taken  up  for 
Turkey  Hill,  some" two  miles  distant. 

On  reaching  the.  Inmting  ground,  the  guns  were 
loaded",;and  the  .party; then  pro'cQed,ed  to  form  a 
ring  around  the' hill,  which  was.  a  low  eminence, 
densely  wooded,  and  abound i IIL;;  with  ledges.  Two 
files  of  men  .'started  in  opposite  directions,  and 

encircled  the  hill  until  they  met,  scattering  them- 
•20 


230  A     HUNTING    CIRCLE. 

selves  apart  as  they  proceeded.  Then,  to  test  the 
connection  of  the  ring  in  all  its  parts,  the  captain 
cried  to  his  left  hand  man,  "Are  you  there?"  and 
he  taking  up  the  call,  according  to  a  previously 
arranged  plan,  shouted  it  to  the  man  on  his  left, 
and  thus  it  passed  around,  until  it  came  back  in  a 
few  moments  to  the  leader.  He  then  gave  the 
order,  " Forward!  "  in  a  similar  manner;  and  as  it 
ran  round  the  line,  the  party  began  its  slow  march 
up  the  hill.  They  continued  to  ascend,  gradually 
closing  up  the  circle,  until  it  embraced  only  about 
an  acre  of  woods.  The  circle  was  now  quite  im- 
pervious to  any  animal,  the  hunters  being  within  a 
few  yards  of  each  other.  Only  a  small  portion  of 
the  ring,  however,  was  visible  at  any  one  point, 
owing  to  the  trees  and  brush,  and  the  inequality  of 
the  surface.  Every  gun  was  now  cocked,  and  every 
eye  was  straining  itself,  to  detect  some  sign  of 
the  presence  of  Bruin.  Suddenly,  the  sharp  crack 
of  a  gun  was  heard,  followed  by  another,  and 
another;  and  almost  immediately,  a  large  bear 
bounded  out,  towards  the  part  of  the  circle  where 
Marcus  and  Oscar  were  stationed.  But  ere  the 
poor  beast  could  reach  the  line,  a  score  of  bullets 


THE     TROPHIE8.  231 

were  btiried  in  his  body,  and  he  fell  dead.  Loud 
and  long  was  the  shout  of  triumph  that  went  up  from 
every  side ;  and  still  louder  did  it  grow,  when  it  was 
found  that  this  was  not  the  only  trophy,  but  that 
another  though  much  smaller  bear  had  been  shot 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  ring,  when  th'e  reports 
of  firearms  were  first  heard. 

The  two  carcasses  were  placed  on  sleds,  and 
dragged  to  the  village  by  the  boys.  The  largest 
bear  was  found  to  weigh  about  four  hundred  and 
fifty  pounds,  but  the  weight  of  the  other  was  a  lit- 
tle short  of  two  hundred  pounds.  Before  the  peo- 
ple separated  for  their  homes,  the  two  carcasses 
were  put  up  at  auction,  and  sold  for  about  fifteen 
dollars.  It  was  voted  to  give  the  money  to  the 
owner  of  the  sheep  killed  by  the  bears  —  an  aged 
man,  in  needy  circumstances,  who  looked  the  grat- 
itude he  could  not  speak,  when  the  generous  pro- 
posal was  ratified  by  a  hearty  "  Aye ! " 

On  Monday  morning,  when  Marcus  read  to  the 
school  the  names  of  absentees  at  the  previous  ses- , 
sion,  and  called  for  excuses,  he  came  to  the  following 
entry :  "  Harrison  Clark — left  at  recess."    He  paused 
a  moment,  and  as  no  excuse  was  offered,  added  — 


232  HARBISON'S  COOLNESS. 

"  Harrison,  when  school  is  dismissed  in  the  after- 
noon, you  may  come  to  my  desk." 

" This  afternoon  or  forenoon  ?  "  inquired  Hani- 
son,  not  at  all  abashed. 

"I  said  this  afternoon"  replied  Marcus,  who 
postponed  the  matter  until  that  hour, 'because  of 
the  limited  intermission  from  studies  at  noon. 

As  Marcus  anticipated,  Harrison  was  going  off 
without  paying  any  regard  to  this  command,  in  the 
afternoon;  but  when  called  he  went  back,  saying 
by  way  of  apology  that  he  forgot  all  about  the 
matter.  When  they  were  alone,  Marcus  inquired, 
very  pleasantly  — 

"Well,  Harrison,  how  did  you  enjoy  yourself, 
Saturday  afternoon  ?  " 

"First-rate  —  didn't  you?"  coolly  replied  the 
boy. 

"Do  you  think  you  enjoyed  the  hunt  as  much  as 
you  would  if  you  had  n't  gone  off  at  recess-,  con- 
trary to  my  express  orders  ?  "  inquired  Marcus. 

"  Well,  yes,  I  do  n't  see  as  that  made  any  differ- 
ence," replied  Harrison,  looking  as  calm  and  un- 
concerned as  though  he  were  discussing  the  point 
with  some  comrade. 


MUTUAL    FKANKNESS.  233 

"  I  see  you  are  inclined  to  be  frank,"  continued 
Marcus.  "I  am  glad  of  that  —  I  like  frank,  open 
dealing  in  everybody,  boys  as  well  as  men.  Do  n't 
you?" 

"  Why,  yes,  I  do,"  replied  the  boy. 

"  And  are  you  willing  to  be  perfectly  frank  with 
me,  if  I  will  be  so  with  you,  in  talking  over  matters 
now  ?  "  inquired  Marcus. 

"  Well,  I  can't  stop  long  —  I  agreed  to  go  some- 
where, after  school,"  replied  Harrison. 

"But  we  must  attend  to  this  business  first," 
replied  Marcus,  in  a  decided  tone.  "Now  if  you 
say  you  will  deal  frankly  with  me,  I  will  proceed 
at  once." 

"  Well,  I  will,"  said  Harrison. 

"  Then  I  will  be  equally  frank  with  you,  and  so 
we  shall  have  a  fair  understanding  of  each  other,7' 
replied  Marcus.  "  I  have  noticed  for  several  weeks, 
especially  since  Mr.  Upton  has  been  sick,  that  you 
were  inclined  to  be  disrespectful  towards  me,  and 
to  annoy  me  and  the  school  by  certain  little  im- 
proprieties that  it  was  difficult  to  prove  wilful, 
though  they  certainly  seemed  to  be  so.  As  I 

know  of  no  reason  why  you  should  .wish  to  trouble 
20* 


234  SEVERITY    AND    KINDNESS. 

me  —  for  I  believe  I  have  always  treated  you  kindly 
—  I  have  taken  as  charitable  a  view  of  this  as  I 
could.  I  have  tried  to  think  that  you  did  not  mean 
any  harm,  but  were  only  a  little  odd  in  your  ways. 
But  when  you  set  my  authority  at  defiance  so 
coolly,  last  Saturday,  I  saw  that  something  more 
serious  than  oddity  was  the  matter.  And  that 
something  has  got  to  be  met,  promptly  and  de- 
cidedly. Now  there  are  two  ways  of  meeting  such 
a  spirit  in  a  scholar.  One  way  is,  to  inflict  a  severe 
and  disgraceful  punishment,  which  will  serve  as  a 
warning  to  the  other  pupils,  if  it  does  not  reform 
the  guilty  one.  The  other  way  is,  to  win  him  from 
his  error  by  mild  and  kind  means. 

"  Now,  Harrison,  you  know  very  well  which  of 
these  systems  of  government  we  have  adopted 
here.  You  have  seen  no  rod  or  ruler,  since  you 
came  here,  and  I  hope  you  will  not,  if  you  stay 
through  the  term.  But  that  is  by  no  means  cer- 
tain. Sometimes,  when  mild  measures  fail,  Mr. 
Upton  adopts  stern  ones ;  but  he  always  tries  kind- 
ness first.  There  is  only  one  other  resort,  in  des- 
perate cases,  and  that  is,  to  expel  the  ofiendcr. 
Now,  if  I  have  been  rightly  informed,  the  harsh 


CANDID     ADMISSIONS.  235 

system  had  been  pretty  faithfully  tried  upon  you 
before  you  came  here,  had  it  not  ?  " 

"  I  should  think  it  had  —  but  it  did  n't  do  any 
good,"  replied  Harrison. 

"  And  now  kindness  has  been  tried,  and  that  has 
done  no  good,"  added  Marcus,  with  a  serious  look. 
"What  more  can  be  done?  Do  you  think  that 
you  ought  to  be  privileged  to  do  as  you  please,  while 
all  the  other  scholars  are  required  to  be  obedient, 
and  orderly,  and  respectful  ?  You  said  you  would 
be  frank  Avith  me ;  now  will  you  answer  me  that 
question,  honestly  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  not,"  replied  Harrison,  rather  reluc- 
tantly. 

"  Very  well,  now  I  wish  you  to  answer  another 
question,  as  frankly  as  you  did  that,"  continued 
Marcus.  "  Do  you  think  I  ought  to  be  expected  to 
sacrifice  my  feelings,  and  strength,  and  time,  in 
trying  harsh  measures  upon  a  boy,  when  the  exper- 
iment has  already  been  made  by  others,  and,  as  he 
admits,  without  any  good  result?" 

"N"o,  sir,"  replied  the  boy,  in  a  more  respectful 
tone  than  usual. 

"Neither  do   I,"  said  Marcus.     "Then  if  kind 


236  EXPULSION. 

measures  fail,  as  they  have  in  your  case,  so  far, 
expulsion  is  the  only  remedy  left ;  and  that,  of 
itself,  is  a  very  harsh,  and  painful,  and  disgraceful 
punishment.  I  can't  bear  to  think  of  it.  It  is  cast- 
ing the  boy  out  from  influences  that  might  save 
him,  into  a  world  of  new  temptations  and  dangers. 
If  he  were  the  only  one  involved,  I  would  put  up 
with  a  great  many  provocations,  before  I  would 
sentence  a  boy  to  such  a  fate  as  that.  But  the 
interests  of  the  school  sometimes  require  that  a 
scholar  should  be  expelled,  and  then  the  teacher 
must  do  his  duty,  however  painful  it  may  be.  In 
such  a  case,  the  teacher  and  the  boy  arc  not  the 
only  sufferers.  The  parents  and  friends  of  the 
offender  often  suffer  even  worse  than  he  docs.  I 
hear,  Harrison,  that  you  have  an  excellent  mother. 
Is  it  so?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  the  boy. 

"I  have  been-told,". continued  Marcus,  " that  she 
is  a  very  kind,  gentle,  and  sensitive  woman.  .  I 
hear,  also,  that  you. appear  to  think  a  great  deal  of 
her,  and  I  hope  the  report  is  true,  for  a  good  mother 
is  a  blessing  for  which  we  can  never  be  too  grate- 
ful." 


A  TENDER  CHOKD  TOUCHED.    237 

The  expression  of  the  boy's  face,  at  this  men- 
tion of  his  mother,  indicated  that  the  report  was 
not  without  foundation. 

"Now,"  continued  Marcus,  "how  would  your 
mother  feel,  if  you  should  go  home,  and  tell  her 
that  you  had  been  expelled  from  the  academy,  for 
misconduct?  Would  it  not  almost  break  her  heart  ? 
For  her  sake,  as  well  as  yours,  I  hope  we  shall  not 
have  to  fall  back  upon  that  last  resort.  But  as  I 
promised  to  be  frank  with  you,  I  must  tell  you,  in 
all  sincerity,  that  the  course  you  have  been  pursu- 
ing will  certainly  lead  to  expulsion,  if  not  aban- 
doned. I  do  not  say  this  to  frighten  you,  but  I  am 
honestly  pointing  out  to  you  a  real  danger,  and  one 
that  you  will  assuredly  encounter  very  soon,  if  you 
do  not  take  warning.  You  have  been  quite  frank 
with  me,  so  far,  now  I  want  to  know  if  you  will 
give  me  a  plain  and  honest  answer  to  one  more 
question  ?  " 

"  I  will,"  replied  Harrison. 

"  I  am  going  to  ask  the  question  now,"  continued 
Marcus,  "  but  you  need  not  answer  it  to-night.  I 
would  rather  that  you  should  take  time  to  think  it 
over,  and. let  me  know  your  decision  to-morrow. 


238  THE     QUESTION. 

The  question  is  this  —  whether  you  intend  to  keep 
on  in  your  old  habits,  as  though  nothing  hud  hap- 
pened, or  will  you  try  to  correct  the  faults  I  have 
mentioned  ?  You  will  please  to  take  notice  that 
the  question  refers  only  to  your  intentions.  I  do 
not  ask  you  to  promise  never  to  disobey  or  be  dis- 
respectful again ;  but  if  you  have  any  intention,  or 
even  the  slightest  wish,  to  reform  these  habits,  I 
want  you  to  say  so,  and  I  will  help  you  all  I  can  to 
accomplish  the  work.  On  the  other  hand,  if  you 
really  prefer  to  do  as  you  have  been  doing,  I  want 
you  to  tell  me  that,  just  as  candidly.  Remember 
you  promised  to  be  frank.  You  can  go,  now,  and 
to-morrow  yon  may  tell  me  your  decision." 

Harrison's  bearing  was  somewhat  more  subdued 
and  respectful  than  usual,  when  he  left  Marcus. 
The. same  peculiarity  was  apparent  in  his  conduct 
the  next  day,  in  school.  When  school  was  dis- 
missed at  noon,  Harrison  went  of  his  own  accord 
to  the  teacher's  desk,  and  said :  — 

"  Mr.  Page,  I  Ve  thought  over  that  matter  that 
we  talked  about  yesterday,  and  I  've  made  up  my 
mind  to  try  to  do  better,  hereafter." 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  hear  you  say  so,  Harrison," 


HARRISON     SUBDUED.  239 

replied  Marcus,  grasping  the  boy  kindly  by  the 
hand.  "  If  that  is  your  intention,  I  have  no  doubt 
we  shall  get  along  pleasantly  enough  after  this." 

"  I  'm  sorry  I  went  off,  Saturday,  and  I  wont  do 
such  a  thing  again,"  added  Harrison. 

"  That  was  quite  a  serious  act  of  disobedience," 
replied  Marcus,  "although  I  have  refrained  from 
saying  much  about  it  directly,  thus  far.  If  I  should 
conclude  that  the  offence  required  some  kind  of 
punishment,  notwithstanding  this  confession,  do 
you  feel  as  though  you  could  submit  to  it  cheer- 
fully?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  think  I  could,"  replied  Harrison,  rather 
hesitatingly. 

"  I  suppose  the  fact  that  you  ran  away  is  known 
to  all  the  scholars,"  observed  Marcus.  "Now  should 
you  be  willing  to  make  the  apology  as  publicly  as 
the  offence?" 

This  was  a  pretty  severe  test  for  Harrison.  Re- 
membering the  braggadocio  with  which  he  had  al- 
luded to  his  offence,  only  the  day  before,  in  the 
presence  of  many  of  his  school-mates,  it  was  hard 
to  say  he  was  willing  to  stand  up  before  them  all, 
and  humbly  acknowledge  his  fault. 


240  THE     OFFENCE    FOBGIVEN. 

"  Give  me  a  frank  answer,  that  is  all  I  ask,"  added 
Marcus,  as  he  perceived  the  conflict  in  his  pupil's 
mind. 

* "  Well,  I  suppose  I  ought  to  confess  in  public, 
and  I  must  do  it,  if  you  say  so,  but  it  will  come 
dreadful  hard,"  replied  the  boy,  who  seemed  anx- 
ious and  perplexed. 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  it  would  be  a  very  disagreeable 
duty,"  said  Marcus ;  "  and  on  the  whole,  I  think  I 
will  not  ask  it  of  you.  The  scholars  know  that  I 
have  taken  private  notice  of  the  offence,  and  per- 
haps that  will  answer  every  purpose.  If  you  will 
show  to  them  a  better  example  hereafter,  that  is  all 
I  will  require,  this  time.  The  past  shall  all  be  for- 
given and  forgotten." 

The  boy  looked  pleased  and  grateful,  and  before 
retiring,  repeated  his  promise  of  amendment. 
This  promise  he  kept.  His  feelings  towards  Mar- 
cus seemed  to  have  undergone  an  entire  change. 
True,  every  fault  in  his  character  and  conduct  was 
not  corrected  at  once ;  but  as  there  seemed  to  be  a 
prevailing  disposition  in  him  to  conform  to  the  rules 
of  the  school,  united  with  a  sincere  respect  for  his 
teacher,  Marcus  looked  upon  his  errors  as  leniently 


MB.    UPTON.  241 

as  possible,  and  endeavored  to  encourage  him  in 
his  good  work  by  every  proper  method. 

The  next  Monday,  Mr.  Upton  resumed  his  post, 
and  complimented  Marcus  very  highly  on  finding 
the  academy  in  so  prosperous  a  state. 

21 


CHAPTER  XV. 

ABOUT     SAM    HAPLEY. 

ll/TR.  HAPLEY,  the  father  of  Jessie  and  Sam, 

and  the  near  neighbor  of  the  Pages,  seemed 

to  be  growing  more  slack  than  ever,  this  winter. 

Fields  of  corn-stalks  Avere  still  standing  on  his  farm, 

although  it  was  well  advanced  in  December,  lie 

/ 

having  neglected  to  cut. them  in  the  fall,  for  his 
cattle.  It  was  even  reported  that  a  good  part  of 
his  potatoes  were  frozen  into  the  ground,  as  he  had 
delayed  digging  them  until  it  was  too  late.  His 
family  and  stock  were  not  so  well  provided  for  that 
they  could  afford  thus  to  throw  away  the  produce 
of  the  farm.  Plenty  by  no  means  reigned  in  the 
house,  and  as  to  the  barn,  its  inmates  bore  unmis- 
takable testimony  that  poor  hay,  with  few  roots  and 
less  grain,  would  not  keep  cattle  in  good  condition. 


THE    JUG.  243 

One  morning,  after  the  last  stick  of  cut  wood 
had  been  consumed,  and  a  rod  or  more  of  the  fence, 
also,  had  been  used  to  "  keep  the  pot  boiling,"  Mr. 
Hapley  mustered  sufficient  resolution  to  go  up  to 
the  wood-lot,  with  his  team,  after  another  load.  He 
got  a  neighbor  to  go  with  him,  for  although  one 
might  have  supposed  Sam  was  large  enough  to  chop 
wood,  Mr.  Hapley  always  said  he  was  "  good  for 
nothing  to  work,"  and  Sam  was  very  careful  never 
to  give  him  occasion  to  alter  his  opinion. 

In  all  such  expeditions  as  this,  there  were  two 
things  that  always  accompanied  Mr.  Hapley.  These 
were,  a  pipe  and  a  jug.  With  something  to  smoke, 
and  something  to  drink,  he  considered  himself 
amply  fortified  against  all  the  demands  of  appetite, 
for  half  a  day  at  least.  The  young  man  who  ac- 
companied him  on  this  occasion,  was  not  at  all 
averse  to  an  occasional  mug  of  cider,  or  whiskey, 
or,  indeed  to  any  other  beverage  that  could  claim 
kindred  to  these.  So  an  extra-sized  jug,  nearly 
full  of  old  cider  of  the  hardest  and  sourest  kind, 
was  put  on  the  sled,  and  tied  to  one  of  the  stakes, 
to  keep  it  in  place. 

"  Now,  you  children,"  said  Mr.  Hapley,  as  he  was 


244 


TAKING    A    KEST. 


about  starting,  "  yon  behave  yourselves,  all  on  you. 
You  Sam,  I  want  you  to  fodder  them  cows  this 
noon,  if  I  do  n't  get  home.  And  mother,"  he  added, 
addressing  his  wife,  "  do  n't  let  Benny  play  out  in 
the  wet,  he 's  got  such  a  cold." 

With  these  admonitions,  the  father  departed. 
Unforttinately,  there  was  no  one  to  admonish  him 
to  behave  himself,  though  perhaps  he  needed  such 
a  caution  as  much  as  his  children.  Arrived  at  the 
wood-lot,  he  and  his  assistant  took  a  full  "  swig " 


from  the  jug,  and  then  commenced  work.  By  the 
time  Mr.  Hapley  had  felled  one  tree,  he  felt  the 
need  of  another  draught  of  cider ;  and  seating  him- 
self on  the  prostrate  trunk,  he  again  tipped  the  jug, 


EFFECTS    OF    CIDER.  215 

and  then  lighting  his  pipe,  resigned  himself  to  quiet 
contemplation.  The  sturdy  strokes  of  his  more 
industrious  companion,  if  they  reproached  him,  did 
not  arouse  him  from  his  lazy  lethargy  for  half  an 
hour,  and  then  he  returned  to  his  work  only  for  a 
short  time,  soon  seeking  refreshment  again  from 
the  jug  and  pipe.  It  "was  past  noon  when  the  sled 
was  loaded  up  with  green  wood,  and  by  this  time, 
Mr.  Ilapley  was  in  no  amiable  mood,  the  soothing 
influence  of  the  pipe  not  having  been  equal  to  the 
exciting  effects  of  the  cider,  which  always  made 
him  as  sour  as  itself.  His  companion,  too,  was  not 
quite  so  cheery  as  when  he  came  into  the  woods. 
He  thought  it  rather  hard  fare,  to  do  moi'e  than 
three-fourths  of  the  work,  and  drink  less  than  one- 
fourth  of  the  cider.  So  they  mounted  the  load, 
and  drove  home,  scarcely  speaking  to  each  other 
on  the  way. 

"  My  patience ! "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Hapley,  as  the 
team  entered  the  yard ;  "  have  you  brought  me  a 
load  of  green  stuff,  at  this  time  of  year,  and  not  a 
stick  of  dry  wood  about  the  premises  ?  What  shall 
I  do ! " 

"  Do  ?  why,  you  can  stick  it  up  in  the  chimney 
21* 


246  GliEKN     STUFF. 

corner,  and  dry  it,"  replied  Mr.  Hapley,  quite  un- 
concerned. 

"  Well,"  added  his  wife,  with  a  sigh,  "  if  I  had 
only  known  you  had  no  wood  seasoning  up  in  the 
lot,  I  'd  have  gone  and  cut  some  myself,  sooner  than 
try  to  burn  that  stuff." 

"You're  always  a  telling  what  you'd  do,"  re- 
plied Mr.  Hapley ;  "  now  I  wish  you  'd  go  and  do 
it,  just  once,  and  say  nothin'  about  it.  Plague 
on't!  how  is  a  feller  going  to  chop  wood,  when 
he's  got  the  rheumatis'  so  he  can't  stand  up?  It 
seems  as  though  women  had  n't  no  consideration 
about  some  things." 

Mrs.  Hapley  always  refrained  from  bandying 
words  with  her  husband,  when  he  was  in  an  irri- 
table mood,  and  she  made  no  further  reply.  He 
took  the  horses  from  the  team,  (for,  according  to 
his  slack  system,  it  was  time  enough  to  unload  the 
wood,  when  the  sled  was  needed  again,)  and  led 
them  into  the  barn.  In  a  few  moments  he  returned, 
and  inquired,  in  a  stern  tone :  — 

"  Who  fed  them  cows,  this  noon  ?  " 

"  I  did,"  replied  Mrs.  Hapley.  "  Sam  wasn't  here, 
at  noon,  and  so  I  took  care  of  them." 


THE     COWS.  247 

"Just  the  Avay  with  that  plaguy  Sam,"  added 
Mr.  Hapley.  "  He 's  never  about  when  anything 's 
to  be  done.  Here,  Sam !  Sam ! "  he  called  at  the 
top  of  his  voice  ;  but  Sam  did  not  respond,  and  Mr. 
Hapley  continued,  "  What  did  you  give  'em  such  a 
mess  of  hay  for  ?  They  Ve  wasted  more  'n  half  of 
it,  and  got  it  all  over  the  barn.  I  do  n't  see  what 
you  was  thinking  of.  "We  can't  afford  to  litter  the 
critters  with  hay,  when  it 's  as  skerce  as  't  is  now." 

"  I  do  n't  think  I  gave  them  too  much,"  replied 
Mrs.  Hapley.  "  The  fact  is,  they  do  n't  like  the  hay, 
and  they  wont  eat  it  up  clean." 

"  Where 's  Benny  ?"  inquired  Mr.  Hapley,  sud- 
denly noticing  that  his  youngest  boy  was  absent. 

"  He 's  gone  out  to  play,"  replied  his  wile. 

"  I  told  you  not  to  let  him  go  out  in  the  slosh  — 
he  '11  be  sick  ag'in,  you  see  if  he  aint,"  said  Mr. 
Hapley. 

"  He 's  dressed  warmly,  and  got  his  thick  boots 
on,"  replied  Mrs.  Hapley.  "It  is  so  pleasant  that  I 
thought  it  would  do  him  good  to  be  out  a  little 
while  in  the  air." 

Mr.  Hapley  withdrew  to  the  barn,  and  was  feed- 
ing his  horses,  when  a  loud  scream  from.  Benny 


248  SAM    AND     BENNY. 

startled  him.  Running  to  a  window  in  the  back 
of  the  barn,  he  saw  the  cause  of  the  outcry.  Sam 
had  thrown  Benny  down  in  the  snow,  and  was 
pushing  him  about  in  it,  and  rubbing  it  into  his 
face  and  neck.  They  were  by  the  roadside,  a  few 
rods  from  the  barn.  Mr.  Hapley  flew  to  the  door, 
and  called  to  Sam,  but  Benny's  outcry  drowned  his 
voice.  lie  then  ran  towards  them,  but  Sam  had 
finished  the  assault,  concluding  with  a  few  vigorous 
kicks,  before  he  saw  his  father  approaching.  Mr. 
Hapley  was  so  enraged  at  what  he  had  witnessed, 
that  he  could  hardly  listen  to  a  word  of  explana- 
tion. Benjamin,  a  lad  of  nine  years,  was  his  young- 
est child,  and  was  supposed  by  the  rest  of  the  fam- 
ily to  be  the  father's  favorite.  He  was  not  at  this 
time  in  robust  health,  which  added  to  Mr.  Hapley's 
excitement,  on  seeing  him  abused  by  Sam.  The 
origin  of  the  assault,  which  Mr.  II.  did  not  stop  to 
investigate  fully,  was  this.  Benny,  seeing  his 
brother  coming  up  the  road,  hid  himself  behind  a 
stone  wall,  until  he  had  passed,  and  then  playfully 
threw  a  soft  snow-ball  at  him,  which  chanced  to  hit 
him  on  the  head,  though  not  with  much  force. 
Sam  instantly  started  for  his  little  brother,  who 


A     S  T  K  U  G  G  L  E  .  249 

fled ;  but  overtaking  him,  the  unfeeling  boy  pitched 
him  into  a  snow  bank,  and  rolled  him  in  it,  then 
"  washed  his  face  in  snow,"  sprinkled  several  hand- 
fuls  of  the  fleecy  element  down  his  neck  and  back, 
and  finally  kicked  him,  as  has  been  stated. 

Mr.  Hapley  led  the  boys  as  far  as  the  barn,  and 
after  telling  Benny  to  go  into  the  house,  and  ask 
his  mother  to  take  care  of  him,  he  pushed  Sam  into 
the  barn,  assuring  him  that  he  would  attend  to 
him.  Having  closed  the  doors,  he  ordered  Sam  to 
take  off  his  coat,  but  the  refractory  boy  refused. 
Enraged  at  this,  the  father  seized  him,  and  a  des- 
perate struggle  ensued,  the  boy  resisting  even  to 
blows,  and  the  anger  of  the  other  waxing  fiercer 

'  O  O 

every  moment.  But  Mr.  Hapley  was  a  powerful 
man,  and  the  result  of  the  contest  was  not  long 
in  doubt.  The  coat  was  stripped  from  the  boy's 
back,  and  despite  his  efforts  to  escape,  he  soon 
found  himself  bound  hand  and  foot  to  a  post, 
utterly  helpless.  As  it  was  useless  to  struggle,  he 
now  betook  himself  to  yelling,  which  he  did  with 
such  effect  that  all  the  family  were  soon  drawn  to 
the  spot.  But  Mr.  Hapley  sternly  ordered  them 
all  away,  and  then  taking  a  heavy  cart  whip,  com- 


250  THE     FLOGGING. 

menced  beating  the  boy  with  great  severity.  Soon 
the  cries  of  the  sufferer  again  brought  the  mother 
and  the  younger  children  to  the  spot,  and  despite 
the  father's  commands,  Mrs.  Hapley  and  Jessie 
entered  the  barn,  and  with  tears  pleaded  for  Sam. 
But  the  father,  whose  natural^  feelings  were  now 
blunted  and  benumbed  by  liquor,  and  whose  wn;th 
was  stirred  almost  to  its  lowest  depths  by  the  re- 
sistance Sam  had  offered,  took  no  notice  of  the 
sympathizing  intruders,  but  kept  on  with  the  cruel 
punishment. 

Marcus,  who  had  heard  the  first  outcry,  and  sus- 
pected the  nature  of  the  trouble,  ran  at  once  over 
to  Mr.  Hapley's,  and  entered  the  barn  just  at  this 
juncture.  The  mother  and  daughter  both  besought 
him  to  interpose  in  behalf  of  the  unfortunate  boy, 
whose  shirt  was  already  slightly  stained  with  blood. 
On  his  entrance,  however,  Mr.  Hapley  stayed  his 
hand,  and,  looking  somewhat  abashed,  as  Marcus 
thought,  inquired  — 

"  What  do  you  want  here,  sir  ?  " 

"  Do  n't  you  think  you  have  punished  Sam  about 
enough  ?  "  inquired  Marcus,  mildly. 

"  I  guess  I  can  flog  my  children  without  any  ad- 


SAM     RELEASED.  251 

vice  from  you  —  you  'd  better  go  home  and  mind 
your  business,"  was  the  reply. 

"I  didn't  mean  any  offence,  Mr.  Hapley,"  con- 
tinued Marcus,  in  the  same  calm  tone.  "I  heard 
Sam  screaming,  and  I  thought  I  Avould  run  over 
and  see  what  the  matter  was,  for  I  didn't  know 
but  somebody  was  abusing  him.  You  would  have 
done  the  same  thing,  if  you  had  been  in  my  place, 
Mr.  Hapley." 

"  I  would  n't  punish  him  any  more,  now,  father," 
said  Mrs.  Hapley ;  "  I  think  it 's  time  to  stop  when 
the  blood  runs." 

"  Are  you  sorry  for  what  you  did  ?  "  inquired  the 
father,  addressing  Sam. 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  boy,  in  a  surly  tone. 

"  Well,  then,  I  '11  let  you  off,  with  this,"  said  Mr. 
Hapley.  "  But  mind  you,  you  wont  get  off  so  easy 
another  time,  if  you  do  n't  behave  yourself,  so  look 
out.  I've  let  you  alone  till  you're  almost  sp'ilt, 
but  I  'm  going  to  turn  over  a  new  leaf  with  you, 
now.  You  Ve  got  to  toe  the  mark,  or  else  I  '11  put 
the  marks  onto  your  back  —  one  of  the  two." 

Mr.  Hapley,  as  he  said  this,  unbound  the  boy, 
who,  on  being  released,  went  into  the  house,  fol- 


252  A    RUDE     KEPULSE. 

lowed  by  his  mother  and  the  children.  Marcus, 
finding  himself  alone  with  the  misguided  father, 
thought  it  his  duty  to  address  a  word  of  remon- 
strance to  him  against  such  punishments. 

"Mr.  Hapley,"  he  said,  "do  you  think  this  is  the 
best  way  to  discipline  a  boy?  Isn't  it  a  rather 
harsh  remedy  ?  " 

"  I  wont  hare  nothing  to  say  to  you  or  anybody 
else  about  that,"  responded  Mr.  Hapley.  "It's 
nobody's  business  if  I  choose  to  whip  my  boy,  and 
I  wish  folks  would  mind  their  own  affairs,  and  let 
me  alone.  I  guess  I  'm  old  enough  to  know  what 
I  'm  about,  and  if  I  aint,  I  do  n't  want  your  advice." 

"I  am  aware  no  one  has  a  right  to  interfere," 
replied  Marcus,  "  unless  you  abuse  your  child.  In 
that  case  I  suppose  you  know  the  law  will  protect 
him.  If  you  didn't  abuse  Sam,  just  HOAV,  I  think 
you  came  very  near  it." 

"What's  that?"  exclaimed  Mr.  Hapley.  "Do 
you  come  over  here  to  sarce  me,  in  my  own  prem- 
ises, you  young  upstart  ?  " 

"  I  see  it  is  of  no  use  to  talk  with  you  now,  Mr. 
Hapley,"  Marcus  calmly  replied,  and  then  withdrew. 

The  next  morning,  Jessie,  with  tears  in  her  eyes, 


THE    B  U  2f  A  W  A  Y  .  253 

informed  Marcus  that  her  brother  was  missing. 
He  had  evidently  gone  off  in  the  night,  intending 
to  seek  his  fortune  elsewhere,  for  he  had  taken  a 
change  of  clothing.  Before  stalling  for  the  acad- 
emy, Marcus  called  on  the  Hapleys  to  see  if  he 
could  be  of  any  sen-ice  to  them,  in  their  new  trouble. 

"Xo,"  said  Mr.  Ilapley,  gruffly,  "we  aint  a  going 
to  send  after  that  boy,  nor  no  such  thing.  If  he 's 
a  mind  to  run  away,  let  him  run,  that 's  all.  I  '11 
warrant  he  '11  get  enough  of  it,  and  be  glad  to  get 
home  ag'in,  before  a  month 's  out." 

Mrs.  Hapley  looked  anxious,  and  the  children 
sad,  though  the  father  seemed  quite  unconcerned. 
No  steps  were  taken  to  bring  back  the  fugitive,  or 
even  to  ascertain  in  what  direction  he  had  gone, 
and  nothing  was  heard  from  him,  until  about  a 
week  after,  when  he  suddenly  made  his  appearance 
one  evening.  He  was  in  a  sorry  plight,  his  feet 
being  somewhat  frosted,  his  clothes  having  suffered 
from  rough  usage,  and  he  being  very  tired  and  hun- 
gry. His  parents  received  him  with  unexpected 
kindness,  and  even  Mr.  Hapley  himself  was  more 
pleased  at  his  return  than  he  was  willing  to  confess. 

Sam,  however,  did  not  seem  inclined  to  say  much 
22 


254  THE     SEARCH. 

about  his  adventures,  during  his  week's  absence, 
and  the  curiosity  of  the  family,  on  that  point,  was 
far  from  satisfied. 

Two  or  three  days  after  Sam's  return,  a  couple 
of  strangers  drove  up  to  the  door,  and  having 
found  Sam,  told  him  he  was  their  prisoner,  at  the 
same  time  showing  him  a  writ  authorizing  his  arrest. 
They  also  informed  Mr.  Hapley  that  they  were 
empowered  to  search  the  house  for  stolen  property; 
adding  that  a  robbery  had  been  committed  in  a 
town  about  ten  miles  distant,  and  there  was  reason 
to  suspect  his  son  had  some  connection  with  it. 
The  shock  of  this  intelligence  so  affected  Mrs. 
Hapley,  that  she  fainted.  While  her  husband  was 
using  means  for  her  recovery,  the  officers  put  a  pair 
of  hand-cuifs  upon  Sam's  wrists,  to  prevent  his 
escape,  and  then  took  him  up  into  his  chamber, 
where  they  commenced  the  search.  There  was  an 
old  bureau  in  the  room,  which  they  examined  very 
thoroughly.  They  also  scrutinized  the  boy's  cloth- 
ing, peered  into  the  fire-place  and  up  the  chimney, 
looked  for  loose  boards  in  the  flooring,  and  exam- 
ined holes  in  the  plastering,  but  all  to  no  purpose. 
They  then  overhauled  the  bed,  and  soon  drew  out 


JESSIE.  255 

from  among  the  feathers  a  package  which  was  found 
to  contain  a  breast-pin,  several  silver  spoons,  and  a 
watch.  With  this  they  announced  themselves  as 
satisfied,  and  soon  started  off  with  their  prisoner. 

The  news  of  Sam's  arrest  spread  through  the  vil- 
lage like  wild-fire.  Marcus  heard  of  it  as  soon  as 
he  was  out  of  school,  in  the  afternoon.  On  the 
way  home,  he  overtook  Jessie  and  Kate,  who,  full 
of  spirits,  wondered  that  Marcus  should  be  so  so- 
ber. The  sad  news  was  not  broken  to  Jessie  until 
she  entered  her  home,  where  she  found  her  father 
upon  the  floor,  drunk,  and  her  mother  sick  in  her 
bed,  while  Benny  was  silently  weeping,  as  though 
his  heart  were  breaking.  Henry  alone  was  able  to 
explain  to  her  what  had  happened.  The  poor  girl 
could  hardly  help  sinking  to  the  floor,  as  Henry 
related  his  story ;  but  feeling  that  this  was  no  time 
to  give  way  to  her  emotions,  she  controlled  her 
nerves  with  admirable  coolness,  and  soon  partly 
forgot  her  own  sorrow,  in  her  efforts  to  relieve  the 
others.  She  prepared  some  medicine  for  her  moth- 
er ;  put  a  pillow  under  her  father's  head,  having 
tried  in  vain  to  assist  him  to  a  chair ;  spread  an  old 


256  THE    PRISONER. 

coat  over  him,  to  prevent  his  taking  cold ;  spoke  a 
few  words  of  comfort  to  Benny ;  and  then  pro- 
ceeded to  get  supper. 

It  was  soon  whispered  about  town  that  Mr.  Hap- 
ley,  since  the  arrest  of  his  son,  had  abandoned  him- 
self to  his  cups  worse  than  ever.  Several  of  his 
neighbors  kindly  remonstrated  with  him  against 
the  course  he  was  pursuing,  and  urged  him  to  take 
some  steps  in  aid  of  his  misguided  boy ;  but  their 
efforts  were  all  in  vain.  Although  Sam's  trial  was 
to  come  on  in  a  few  days,  none  of  his  friends  had 
been  near  him,  to  offer  him  advice  or  assistance. 
In  this  extremity,  Mrs.  Hapley  appealed  to  Marcus 
for  assistance,  who  readily  consented  to  do  all  he 
could  in  behalf  of  the  boy.  The  next  day  he  drove 
over  to  the  town  where  Sam  was  awaiting  his  trial, 
accompanied  by  Mrs.  Hapley.  They  found  the 
boy  alone  in  a  cell,  looking  very  dejected.  He 
burst  into  tears,  on  seeing  his  mother,  and  for  sev- 
eral minutes  neither  of  them  could  speak.  Marcus, 
in  a  kind  tone,  told  him  they  had  come  to  see  if 
they  could  do  anything  for  him,  and  urged  him  to 
tell  them  frankly  all  about  the  stolen  property 
found  in  his  room,  that  they  might  the  better  know 


SAM'S   CONFESSION.  257 

how  to  proceed.  Sam  at  once  expressed  his  will- 
ingness to  do  so,  and  then  related  his  adventures, 
from  the  time  he  left  home  until  his  return.  His 
story,  in  substance,  was  as  follows. 

He  left  home  on  a  pleasant  moonlight  night,  as 
soon  as  he  was  satisfied  all  the  family  were  asleep. 
He  walked  seven  or  eight  miles,  and  then  forced 
an  entrance  into  a  barn,  where  he  slept  the  rest  of 
the  night.  The  family  gave  him  a  breakfast,  the 
next  morning,  and  he  then  resumed  his  journey. 
In  the  course  of  the  forenoon  he  reached  a  large 
town,  where  he  concluded  to  stop  and  see  what 
he  could  do ;  for  he  had  but  half  a  dollar  in  his 
pocket,  and  began  to  feel  a  little  uneasy.  There 
was  a  large  tavern  in  the  village,  which  Avas  much 
frequented  by  sleighing  parties,  and  for  a  day  or 
two  Sam  managed  to  pick  up  a  little  change,  by 
holding  horses,  and  performing  other  small  chores 
for  the  company.  He  was  allowed  to  sleep  in  the 
barn,  and  got  his  meals  at  a  low  "  saloon  "  near  by. 
The  associates  among  whom  he  was  thus  thrown, 
were  not  of  the  best  kind,  and  one  of  them,  a  young 
man  several  years  older  than  himself,  was  an  offender 
against  the  law,  having  served  out  two  or  three 
22* 


258 


MACK. 


sentences  in  jails.  His  name  was  Mack.  There 
was  something  in  the  face,  the  conversation,  or  the 
peculiar  circumstances  of  Sam,  that  led  him  to  pro- 
pose to  the  boy  a  sort  of  partnership  in  crime ;  and 
as  he  set  forth  the  gains  to  be  derived  from  such  a 
course  in  the  brightest  colors,  the  boy's  easy  virtue 
made  but  slight  resistance,  and  without  much  per- 
suasion, he  agreed  to  the  proposition. 

The  next  night  after  the  matter  had  been  set- 
tled, Sam  made  his  first  attempt  as  a  burglar,  in 


connection  with  Mack.  They  chose  for  the  scene 
of  operations  a  large  and  substantial  house,  occu- 
pied by  a  widow  of  reputed  Avealth,  and  her  family 


THE     BURGLARS.  259 

of  young  children.  The  moon  shone  bright,  but 
as  the  house  was  in  a  retired  neighborhood,  they 
thought  they  could  elude  detection.  Mack  entered 
the  dwelling  first,  by  a  second  story  window,  stand- 
ing upon  Sam's  broad  shoulders  to  reach  the  sash, 
which  proved  not  to  be  fastened  down.  He  then 
descended  to  the  basement,  and  opened  the  doors, 
that  they  might  easily  escape  in  case  of  alarm.  Sam 
now  entered,  and  the  two  ransacked  the  lower  part 
of  the  house,  helping  themselves  to  a  quantity  of 
silver  ware,  some  jewelry,  two  watches,  and  a  good 
supper.  After  securing  a  few  articles  of  value, 
Sam  was  in  haste  to  escape,  but  his  companion 
seemed  in  no  hurry,  and  went  about  the  house  as 
leisurely  as  though  he  were  at  home.  This  free 
and  easy  bearing  doubtless  seemed  quite  profes- 
sional to  Mack,  but  he  happened  to  carry  it  a  little 
too  far  for  his  own  safety.  Sam,  impatient  of  his 
dilatory  movements,  was  awaiting  him  outside, 
when  he  heard  a  movement  in  the  house  which  led 
him  to  take  flight.  It  seemed  the  widow  had  been 
awakened  by  the  burglars,  and,  arousing  her  oldest 
son,  a  brave  boy  of  fourteen,  they  descended  as 
noiselessly  as  possible.  Mack  had  j  ust  before  lighted 


2CO  MACK    A K RESTED. 

a  lamp,  and  gone  down  into  the  cellar,  to  see  if  he 
could  find  a  bottle  of  wine,  leaving  his  plunder  on 
the  kitchen  table.  Suddenly  the  cellar  door  was 
closed  and  locked  upon  him,  and  he  heard  strange 
voices,  one  of  which,  the  voice  of  a  boy,  assured 
him  that  he  had  a  loaded  rifle,  and  would  put  a 
bullet  through  him  "in  less  than  no  time,"  if  he 
attempted  to  get  away.  The  burglar  tried  to  es- 
cape by  a  window,  but  the  rifle  was  quickly  pointed 
at  him,  outside,  and  he  gave  up  the  attempt. 
In  a  few  moments  help  arrived,  and  he  was  se- 
cured. As  all  the  stolen  property  was  not  found, 
it  was  suspected  that  he  had  an  accomplice, 
though  he  refused  to  give  any  information  on  that 
point. 

Sam  left  the  village  as  speedily  as  possible, 
directing  his  steps  towards  a  town  where  he  had 
never  been  before.  After  wandering  about  two 
days,  and  suffering  much  from  fatigue,  cold,  hun- 
ger, and  anxiety,  he  at  length  reached  home,  as 
we  have  seen.  The  sudden  and  unexplained  dis- 
appearance of  Sain,  from  the  village  tavern,  to- 
gether with  the  fact  that  he  had  been  seen  with 
Mack  several  times  on  the  evening  of  the  burglary, 


THE     TRIAL.  261 

directed  suspicion  towards  him,  and  finally  led  to 
his  arrest. 

After  hearing  Sam's  story,  Marcus  expressed  the 
opinion  that  he  had  better  plead  guilty,  and  frankly 
own  up  his  offence  to  the  officers  of  justice.  This 
advice  was  accepted  by  Sam  and  his  mother.  Mar- 
cus and  Mrs.  Ilapley  then  secured  a  lawyer  to 
appear  on  behalf  of  the  boy  at  the  trial ;  and  they 
also  had  an  interview  Avith  the  officer  who  con- 
ducted the  prosecution,  explaining  to  him  the  cir- 
cumstances of  the  case,  and  soliciting  his  influence 
in  favor  of  the  prisoner,  on  the  ground  that  this 
was  his  first  offence,  and  that  he  had  been  led  astray 
by  a  hardened  offender. 

Sam  was  brought  before  the  court  a  day  or  two 
after,  and  pleaded  guilty  to  the  charge  of  burglary. 
His  counsel  urged  several  reasons  for  a  light  sen- 
tence, and  the  prosecuting  attorney  said  that,  under 
the  circumstances,  he  should  not  oppose  the  request. 
The  judge,  however,  thought  it  was  not  exactly  a 
case  for  mercy.  The  prisoner,  he  said,  was  a  run- 
away from  home.  He  had  voluntarily  made  him- 
self a  vagrant,  and  had  shown  his  willingness  to 
resort  to  crime,  to  get  a  living.  No  attempt  had 


262  THE     SENTENCE. 

been  made  to  prove  a  good  character  for  him,  and 
he  doubted  whether  such  an  attempt  could  succeed. 
He  concluded  by  sentencing  the  boy  to  the  county 
jail  for  four  months. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

MERRY    DAYS     A  X  D     SAD     ONES. 

"  T  DO  N'T  care,  I  got  the  start  of  all  of  you," 
said  Ronald,  as  the  family  were  discussing 
over  the  breakfast  table,  Christmas  morning,  the 
question  who  was  the  first  to  wish  the  others  "  a 
merry  Christmas."  "  I  heard  the  clock  strike  four, 
and  I  jumped  right  out  of  bed,  and  ran  into  the 
entry,  and  wished  you  all  a  merry  Christmas." 

"  Well,  that  was  n't  fair —  I  was  asleep,  and  didn't 
hear  you,"  said  Kate. 

"So  was  I  asleep,"  "And  I,"  "And  I,"  added 
one  and  another. 

"That  makes  no  difference,  so  long  as  I  was 
awake,"  replied  Ronald. 

"  Ronald,"  said  Marcus,  "  reminds  me  of  a  fellow 
I  have  either  heard  or  dreamed  about,  who  bragged 


264  OSCAR'S  PRESENTS. 

that  he  got  up  and  wished  all  the  kingdoms  of  the 
earth  a  happy  new  year  at  one  lick.  For  my  part, 
if  any  body  has  got  any  good  wishes  for  me,  I 
should  prefer  to  be  informed  of  it  when  I  am  awake. 
And  I  do  n't  care  much  about  being  lumped  in  with 
all  the  kingdoms  of  the  earth,  either." 

"  Well,  sir,  I  wish  you  a  merry  Christmas,  all  to 
yourself,  —  I  believe  you  are  awake  now,"  said  Ro- 
nald, with  a  sly  chuckle. 

"  There,  I  may  as  well  give  in  —  I  wont  try  to 
say  anything  more,"  added  Marcus,  as  the  laugh 
went  round  the  table  at  his  expense. 

After  breakfast  no  little  curiosity  was  excited  by 
a  package  which  Marcus  handed  to  Oscar.  It  was 
received  by  Marcus  the  day  before,  by  express,  with 
a  note  requesting  him  to  deliver  it  to  Oscar,  Christ- 
mas morning.  After  removing  sundry  cords  and 
wrappers,  the  contents  stood  disclosed.  There 
was  a  fine  pair  of  skates,  from  his  father ;  a  gold 
pen,  from  his  mother ;  a  pair  of  wrought  slippers, 
from  Alice,  his  oldest  sister;  a  beautiful  book-mark 
.:£roni  Ella,  another  sister ;  a  book  from  his  brother 
Ralph;  and  a  package  of  confectionery  from  George, 
his  youngest  brother.  Brief  notes  accompanied 


J  E  K  R  Y  .  265 

several  of  the  presents.  There  were  also  two  let- 
ters in  the  package,  the  handwriting  of  one  of 
which,  Oscar  did  not  recognize.  It  proved  to  be 
from  a  young  acquaintance  in  Boston  named  Wil- 
liam Davenport,  who  went  by  the  familiar  name  of 
"  "Whistler  "  among  his  comrades.  It  was  written 
in  fulfilment  of  a  promise  he  had  made,  before 
Oscar  left  Boston.  The  other  letter  was  from  his 
mother,  and,  like  all  similar  favors  from  that  source, 
was  full,  margin  and  all,  of  kind  words,  good  advice, 
and  family  news.  It  contained  an  item  of  intelli- 
gence, however,  that  cast  something  of  a  damper 
over  the  spirits  of  Oscar.  It  was  as  follows :  — 

"The  brig  Susan  has  been  heard  from  at  last. 
You  know  we  have  been  looking  for  her  ever  since 
October.  She  foundered  in  a  gale  in  September, 
off  the  South  American  coast,  and  the  men  took  to 
the  boats.  One  of  the  boats  was  picked  up,  after 
floating  about  for  several  days,  and  the  men  in  it 
were  saved,  after  enduring  great  hardships,  and 
have  arrived  here.  Nothing  has  been  heard  of  the 
other  boat,  OH  board  which  was  poor  Jerry.  His 
parents  are  much  distressed  about  him;  but  youv 
father  thinks  he  may  be  safe  yet,  as  the  boat  may 
have  reached  the  shore,  or  may  have  fallen  in 
23 


266  C  II  K  I  S  T  M  A  S     PARTY. 

with  some  outward-bound  vessel.     Let  us  hope  for 
the  best,  as  long  as  we  can." 

The  "  poor  Jerry "  referred  to,  was  a  cousin  to 
Oscar.  The  two  boys  had  once  been  very  intimate, 
somewhat  to  the  damage  of  Jerry's  character ;  and 
it  was  in  a  great  measure  owing  to  this  intimacy 
that  Jerry  absconded  from  his  home,  in  Brookdale, 
about  a  year  previous  to  this  time,  and  shipped  for 
a  voyage  around  Cape  Horn. 

There  was  to  be  a  children's  Christmas  party  at 
the  town  hall,  in  the  evening,  and  the  presents 
designed  for  the  other  members  of  the  family  were 
reserved  to  grace  the  "  tree "  that  was  to  be  one 
of  the  chief  attractions  of  the  occasion.  Marcus 
and  the  children  constituted  a  part  of  the  commit- 
tee of  arrangements  for  the  festival,  and  were 
occupied  with  their  duties  through  a  good  part  of 
the  day.  At  an  early  hour  in  the  evening,  the 
whole  family  proceeded  to  the  town  hall,  where 
they  found  the  chief  portion  of  the  town's  popula- 
tion assembled,  especially  the  younger  part.  The 
hall,  with  its  evergreen  decorations,  its  numerous 
lights,  and  its  sea  of  happy  faces,  presented  an  en- 


THE    ENTERTAINMENT.  2G7 

livening  spectacle.  At  the  hour  appointed  for 
opening  the  exercises,  the  clergyman  of  the  village 
ascended  the  platform,  and  after  a  few  remarks, 
invoked  a  blessing  upon  those  assembled.  Then 
came  an  introductory  declamation,  by  one  of  the 
academy  boys,  followed  by  the  recitation  of  an 
appropriate  poem  by  a  fair-haired  little  girl  of  six 
summers.  Next  appeared  upon  the  platform  our 
two  young  friends  Ronald  and  Otis,  who  confronted 
each  other  in  blank  silence  a  minute  or  two,  and 
then  retreated  to  the  ante-room,  without  exchang- 
ing a  word.  Some  of  the  audience  were  in  pain- 
ful suspense,  during  this  scene,  supposing  it  to  be 
a  failure ;  while  others  began  to  whisper  that  it  was 
a  tableau,  and  not  a  dialogue,  though  they  were 
puzzled  to  tell  what  it  represented,  or  why  the 
figures  should  walk  to  and  from  the  stage,  in  sight 
of  the  audience. 

A  curtain  before  the  platfoi-m  now  fell,  and  after 
a  few  minutes  was  again  raised,  disclosing  to  the 
audience  a  charming  tableau  of  Minnehaha,.  the 
Indian  maid.  The  two  boys  who  had  acted  in  the 
mute  scene,  just  before,  now' re-appeared,  and  went 
through  very  creditably  with  a  dialogue,  Ronald, 


268  THE    CHRISTMAS    TREE. 

the  leading  speaker,  having  suddenly  forgotten  his 
part,  on  his  first  appearance.  Then  followed  sev- 
eral songs,  declamations  and  tableaux,  after  which 
the  main  attraction  of  the  evening  was  introduced, 
by  the  raising  of  the  curtain  which  concealed  the 
Christmas  tree  from  view.  A  loud  and  inerry  shout 
arose  from  the  young  folks,  which  was  prolonged 
for  a  minute  or  two,  and  followed  by  general  ex- 
pressions of  admiration  from  all  present.  There 
stood  the  tree,  a  tall,  straight  and  symmetrical  ever- 
green, illuminated  with  candles,  arrayed  among  its 
branches,  and  adorned  with  artificial  icicles  and 
snow  flakes.  The  fruits,  however,  with  which  every 
bough  and  twig  seemed  bending,  were  the  most 
interesting  objects  of  contemplation  to  the  hundred 
pairs  of  youthful  eyes  fixed  earnestly  upon  the  tree. 
Many  of  these  fruits,  it  is  true,  were  hidden  from 
sight,  by  a  rind  of  paper,  cloth  or  wood ;  but  im- 
agination readily  supplied  all  deficiencies  of  this 
kind,  and  the  little  eyes  gazed,  and  sparkled,  and 
longed,  just  as  though  they  pierced  through  all  the 
outer  coverings  that  concealed  the  tempting  clus- 
ters which  hung  upon  the  boughs. 

After  a  few  moments,  Santa  Glaus  suddenly  ap- 


I 

SANTA     GLAUS.  269 

peared,  and  walking  across  the  platform,  took  his 
station  by  the  side  of  the  tree,  amid  rapturous  ap- 
plause from  the  company.  He  appeared  to  be  a 
venerable  personage,  with  a  flowing  gray  beard, 
and  was  completely  encased  in  furs,  from  top  to 
toe  —  fur  boots,  fur  leggings,  fur  tunic,  fur  mittens, 
and  a  fur  cap  which  enveloped  all  of  his  head  except 
the  face.  After  silence  had  been  secured,  he  spoke, 
in  tones  which  seemed  very  soft  and  gentle  to  pro- 
ceed from  so  rough  and  ancient  a  personage,  and 
which  not  a  few  of  the  audience  declared  "sounded 
just  like  the  voice  of  Marcus  Page."  He  said  he  had 
brought  "heaps"  of  presents,  and  had  almost  broken 
his  back  with  the  effort.  He  hoped  he  Had  brought 
something  for  everybody;  but  if  he  had  not,  he 
trusted  they  would  not  blame  him,  for  he  had  done 
the  best  he  could.  He  requested  the  children  not 
to  crowd  around  the  tree,  and  invited  the  recipi- 
ents to  walk  up  one  by  one  as  their  names  were 
called.  He  then  commenced  gathering  the  fruit, 
to  each  of  which  was  attached  the  name  of  the 
person  it  was  intended  for.  And  now  the  sport 
began  in  earnest.  What  a  queer  assortment  of 

articles  to  gather  from  one  tree !     There  wei-e  gold 
23* 


270  NEW   YEAR'S. 

rings,  breastpins,  lockets,  pencils,  and  pens ;  silver 
spoons  and  thimbles;  Avork-boxes,  wooden  dogs, 
and  stuffed  rabbits  ;  books,  fancy  boxes,  and  popped 
corn ;  sleds,  skates,  and  mittens ;  pin-cushions, 
needle-books,  and  bags  of  candy ;  dolls,  pocket 
knives  and  cologne  bottles.  But  time  and  patience 
would  fail  to  mention  half  the  things  that  good 
Santa  Clans  handed  down  to  the  company.  It 
was  an  hour  before  the  distribution  was  finished. 
The  company  then  adjourned  "to  the  room  below, 
where  they  found  an  abundance  of  simple  country 
refreshments  provided.  A  speech  or  two  followed, 
and  with  three  cheers  for  Christmas  day,  and  three 
more  for  Santa  Claus,  the  entertainment  ended. 

There  was  the  usual  exchange  of  good  wishes 
and  little  keep-sakes,  on  "New  Year's  morning,  but 
the  day  was  not  otherwise  distinguished  as  a  fes- 
tival, and  the  schools  kept,  and  business  went  on, 
as  on  other  days.  As  the  family  were  seated  at 
the  breakfast  table,  a  light  rap  upon  the  door  was 
heard,  and  on  answering  the  call,  Jessie  Ilapley, 
pale  and  agitated,  was  found  upon  the  steps. 

"  Mrs.  Page,"  she  said,  as  soon  as  that  lady  ap- 
peared, "  mother  wants  to  know  if  you  will  come 


BENNY'S   SICKNESS.  271 

right  over —  she  is  afraid  Benny  is  dying; "  and  the 
poor  girl  burst  into  tears  as  she  delivered  the  mes- 
sage. 

"Benny  dying!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Page,  "why,  I 
had  no  idea  he  was  so  sick  as  that  —  how  long  has 
he  been  so  ?  " 

"He  grew  worse  very  fast  last  night,"  replied 
Jessie.  "  Henry  has  gone  for  the  doctor,  and 
mother  thought  perhaps  you  could  tell  what  to  do, 
till  he  comes." 

"Yes,  I  will  go  over  immediately,"  replied  Mrs. 
Page,  and  she  went  for  her  bonnet  and  shawl,  and 
a  minute  after  started  by  the  shortest  cut  across 
the  fields  for  the  house  of  sorrow. 

Marcus  would  gladly  have  accompanied  his 
mother,  but  for  fear  that  his  presence  at  such  a  time 
might  be  regarded  an  intrusion.  Benny  was 
one  of  a  class  of  little  boys  which  Marcus  had  in- 
structed in  the  Sabbath  school  for  some  two  years. 
Partly  from  the  gentle,  winning  disposition  of  the 
child,  and  partly  on  account  of  the  unfavorable 
influences  to  which  lie  was  exposed  at  home,  Marcus 
felt  an  especial  interest  in  him,  and  had  watrlic  1 
his  decline  witli  no  little  solicitude.  For  sever;:! 


272  A    PLEASANT     SURPRISE. 

months  past,  Benny  had  been  able  to  attend  the 
Sabbath  school  only  occasionally;  but  every  Sun- 
day his  young  teacher  carried  or  sent  to  him  an 
attractive  book  from  the  library,  and  in  other  ways . 
manifested  his  continued  interest  in  the  sick  scholar. 
It  was  with  a  heavy  heart,  therefore,  that  Marcus 
heard  his  mother  summoned  to  Benny's  death-bed, 
on  this  pleasant  New  Year's  morning.  An  hour 
later,  on  his  way  to  the  academy,  he  stopped  at 
Mr.  Haplcy's  door,  to  inquire  after  the  patient,  and 
was  told  that  the  doctor  was  still  with  him,  and 
that  the  result  of  his  efforts  in  behalf  of  the  boy 
was  yet  uncertain. 

In  spite  of  the  pleasant  associations  of  the  day, 
and  the  kindly  greetings  with  which  his  scholars 
met  him,  a  cloud  hung  over  the  spirits  of  Marcus, 
which  he  was  unable  to  dispel.  One  incident  oc- 
curred, however,  which  was  peculiarly  grateful  to 
his  feelings.  On  entering  the  school-room,  he  was 
followed  by  Harrison  Clark,  who,  taking  from  be- 
hind a  blackboard  a  handsomely  finished  cane, 
handed  it  to  Marcus,  and,  with  some  embarrassment 
in  his  manner,  said :  — 

"Mr.  Page,  will  you  accept  of  this  as  a  Kew 


WHAT    WAS     SAID.  273 

Year's  present?  It  isn't  of  much  value,  but  I 
made  it  myself  on  purpose  for  you." 

"  Ah,  is  this  your  work  ?  "  inquired  Marcus,  care- 
fully examining  the  article,  which  was  really  well 
made,  in  every  part.  "  Did  you  do  it  all  yourself 
—  head,  ferule,  rings  and  all? " 

"  Yes,  sir  —  Mr.  Tucker  let  me  use  his  tools,  and 
I  did  the  whole  of  the  work  myself,"  replied  Harri- 
son. 

"It  is  certainly  very  creditable  to  you,"  continued 
Marcus.  "  I  do  n't  see  how  it  could  be  improved. 
Yes,  I  will  accept  it  with  great  pleasure,  and  thank 
you  for  it,  too.  Coming  as  a  present  from  you,  I 
shall  value  it  ten  times  what  it  would  cost  to  get 
such  a  cane  made  —  yes,  a  hundred  times.  I  shall 
remember  your  kindness  with  gratitude,  perhaps 
after  you  have  forgotten  both  me  and  the  cane." 

"  I  do  n't  think  I  shall  forget  you  very  soon  — 
you  have  been  so  good  to  me,"  replied  the  boy, 
with  a  look  which  testified  to  the  sincerity  of  the 
remark. 

"  And  you  have  proved  yourself  worthy  of  my 
kindness,  so  I  need  not  take  much  credit  for  that," 
rejoined  Marcus. 


274  THE    SICK    BOY. 

The  boy,  who  but  lately  was  so  bold  and  defiant 
in  his  bearing,  blushed  at  this  not  unmeaning  com- 
pliment, and  withdrew. 

When  Marcus  returned  home,  in  the  afternoon, 
he  again  stopped  to  inquire  after  the  sick  boy,  and 
was  requested  to  go  in,  as  Benny  had  expressed  a 
desire  to  see  him.  He  found  the  sufferer  in  a  little 
bed  which  had  been  made  up  for  him  in  the  front 
room,  near  the  fire,  for  he  complained  much  of  the 
cold.  A  faint  smile  lit  up  his  face  as  Marcus  en- 
tered. 

"  How  is  he,  Mrs.  Hapley  ?  "  inquired  Marcus,  as 
he  seated  himself  by  the  bedside,  and  took  Benny's 
cold  hand  into  his  own. 

"  I  think  he  is  a  little  more  comfortable  than  he 
was  this  morning,"  replied  Mrs.  Hapley.  "  He  has 
been  very  much  distressed  for  breath,  most  of  the 
day,  but  he  seems  to  be  better,  now." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  that,  and  I  hope  he  will  con- 
tinue to  improve,"  said  Marcus. 

Benny,  whose  mild,  lustrous  eyes  had  been  fas- 
tened upon  Marcus  from  the  moment  he  entered 
the  door,  was  too  weak  to  speak  aloud ;  but  as  he 
seemed  to  have  something  to  say,  Marcus  bent  his 


HEAVEN.  275 

ear  down  to  the  boy's  mouth,  and  was  addressed 
in  a  whisper  as  follows :  — 

"  I  'm  not  going  to  get  well,  and  I  do  n't  want  to. 
I'm  going  to  heaven  pretty  soon.  I  have  been 
longing  to  go,  ever  since  I  was  taken  sick,  and  now 
I  know  I  'in  almost  there.  I  love  God,  and  Jesus, 
and  the  angels,  and  all  good  folks.  Do  you  remem- 
ber what  you  told  me  about  heaven,  the  other  day 
• — how  many  millions  of  good  little  children  are 
there,  and  how  Jesus  calls  them  his  lambs,  and 
wipes  away  their  tears,  and  takes  them  in  his  arms  ? 
There  wont  be  anything  to  make  us  sorry  in  heaven, 
will  there?" 

"  No,"  replied  Marcus,  his  mind  recurring  to  that 
passage  of  Scripture,  "There  shall  be  no  more 
death,  neither  sorrow,  nor  crying,  neither  shall  there 
be  any  more  pain." 

There  was  a  brief  interval  of  silence,  broken 
only  by  an  occasional  half-suppressed  sigh  that 
escaped  from  Jessie,  who  was  seated  in  a  remote 
corner  of  the  room,  and  by  the  slow  and  regular 
tread  of  Mr.  Hapley,  who  was  pacing  the  floor  of 
the  chamber  overhead,  in  an  agony  of  grief  and 
remorse.  Marcus  afterwards  learned  that  a  few 


276  'THE    DEATH    CHILL. 

hours  before  this,  when  Benny  was  thought  to  be 
dying,  he  had  entreated  his  father  in  a  most  affec- 
tionate and  touching  manner  to  abandon  the  beset- 
ting sin  which  was  bringing  himself  and  his  family 
to  ruin  and  disgrace.  The  strong  man,  after  a 
brief  but  desperate  struggle,  promised  the  dying 
boy  that  he  would  abandon  his  cups  from  that  hour, 
and  would  try  to  live  in  such  a  way  that  he  might 
meet  his  little  son  in  heaven. 

Mrs.  Hapley,  who  had  been  engaged  in  the 
kitchen,  now  came  in,  with  a  bottle  of  hot  water, 
to  be  applied  to  Benny's  feet ;  but  he  whispered  to 
her :  — 

"  O,  mother,  I  am  so  cold !  Wont  you  take  me 
up  in  your  arms,  and  hold  me  before  the  fire  ?  " 

"  Yes,  dear,"  replied  his  mother,  and  she  took  the 
boy  gently  into  her  arms,  wrapped  a  blanket  around 
him,  and  sat  down  befoi'e  the  blazing  fire. 

This  movement  seemed  to  be  too  much  for  the 
boy,  for  he  gasped  for  breath,  and  sank  exhausted 
into  his  mother's  arms.  After  a  few  minutes  he 
recovered  sufficiently  to  speak. 

"Why,  mother,"  he  said,  "how  fast  it  grows 
dark !  I  ca  n't  hardly  see  anything." 


THE     LAST     SCENE.  277 

"  Jessie,  ask  your  father  to  come  clown,"  said  Mrs. 
Hapley,  trying  to  speak  calmly. 

"  It  is  dark  here,  but  it  is  light  there  —  O,  how 
light ! "  whispered  the  dying  boy. 

"  Where  ?  "  inquired  the  mother,  scarcely  know- 
ing what  she  asked. 

"I  don't  know  where  it  is,"  replied  the  boy.  "I 
saw  it  coming,  way  off,  just  now,  like  a  bright  cloud, 
and  now  it 's  all  around  me.  Why,  mother,  do  n't 
you  see  it  ?  The  room  is  all  full  of  it ! " 

Mr.  Hapley  now  entered  the  room,  but,  seemingly 
unable  to  endure  the  scene,  silently  bowed  his  head 
against  the  wall.  Jessie  and  Henry  also  came  in 
with  their  father. 

"  I  want  to  kiss  you  all,"  whispered  Benny  to  his 
mother,  after  the  family  had  assembled. 

His  wish  was  complied  with,  and  his  mother, 
father,  Jessie,  Henry  and  Marcus  successively  re- 
ceived and  returned  a  parting  kiss. 

"Now  one  more  for  Sammy  —  you '11  give  it  to 
him  when  he  comes  back,  wont  you,  mother?" 
added  Benny. 

The  promise  was  made,  and  the  kiss  given.  But 
the  poor  boy  did  not  know  that  his  absent  brother 
24 


278  DEATH. 

was  at  that  moment  serving  a  sentence  in  jail  as  a 
convicted  felon.  The  result  of  Sam's  trial  had  been 
wisely  concealed  from  Benny,  on  account  of  his 
illness. 

The  circle  had  sat  in  silence  for  several  minutes, 
when  Mrs.  Hapley  arose,  and  tenderly  laying  her 
precious  charge  upon  the  bed,  kissed  the  pale 
brow,  and  said,  in  a  low,  calm  tone,  which  almost 
startled  herself:  — 

"It  is  all  over — the  bitterness  of  death  is  past!" 

The  spirit  of  the  child  had  departed  so  peace- 
fully, that  she  could  not  tell  when  he  drew  the  last 
breath.  But  the  true  and  loving  heart  had  ceased 
to  beat,  and  the  mild  eyes  were  set  in  death,  and 
the  last  enemy  had  accomplished  his  work  surely, 
though  noiselessly. 

Marcus  soon  withdrew  from  the  sorrowing  circle, 
his  own  heart  bowed  in  grief  as  sincere  if  not  as 
deep  as  that  of  the  near  relatives  of  the  deceased. 
It  was  the  first  time  he  had  ever  come  into  the  im- 
mediate presence  of  death,  and  had  seen,  as  it  were, 
the  fatal  arrow  wing  its  way  into  the  living  mark. 
It  was,  indeed,  the  first  time  that  the  grave  had 
claimed  one  in  whom  he  felt  so  deep  an  interest, 


MARCUS    IN     SOLITUDE.  279 

and  towards  whom  lie  held  so  near  a  relation ;  for 
he  never  could  realize  the  death  of  his  father,  fol- 
lowed as  it  was  by  years  of  anxious  suspense  and  • 
hope  deferred,  and  shrouded  in  impenetrable  mys- 
tery up  to  this  hour. 

Mrs.  Page  and  her  sister  went  over  to  comfort 
and  assist  the  stricken  family,  while  Marcus  retired 
to  his  chamber,  to  commune  with  his  own  thoughts. 
Though  far  from  unfaithful  to  his  trust  as  a  relig- 
ious teacher,  he  now  lamented  that  he  had  done  so 
little  for  the  spiritual  improvement  of  the  dear  boy 
whom  death  had  just  removed  from  the  reach  of 
his  influence.  Never  before  did  he  realize  so  viv- 
idly the  uncertainty  of  life,  the  insignificance  of 
worldly  ambition,  and  the  inestimable  value  of 
those  treasures  which  make  us  "  rich  toward  God." 
And  now,  at  the  beginning  of  the  new  year,  did 
he  kneel  down  and  ask  for  divine  aid,  as  he  pledged 
himself  to  strive,  with  more  fidelity  than  ever  be- 
fore, to  kindle  in  the  young  minds  around  him 
desires  after  a  higher  and  purer  life. 


CHAPTER  XVTI. 

ADVERSITY. 

FT1HE  first  act  of  Mr.  Haplcy,  after  Benny  was  laid 
in  the  frozen  ground,  was  one  that  gave  new 
hope  to  the  sorrowing  household.  At  his  reqitest, 
the  clergyman  of  the  village  had  previously  writ- 
ten a  pledge  of  total  abstinence  from  all  intoxicating 
liquor,  which  the  afflicted  father  signed  upon  the  cof- 
fin of  his  boy.  On  returning  from  the  funeral,  he 
collected  together  all  the  alcoholic  liquors  in  the 
house,  consisting  of  cider,  whiskey  and  brandy,  and 
taking  them  into  the  yard,  poured  them  out  upon 
the  snow.  As  Mrs.  Hapley  and  the  children  gazed 
upon  this  novel  scene,  they  almost  forgot  their 
bereavement,  in  the  new  hopes  and  joys  which 
seemed  now  about  to  be  bestowed  upon  them. 
And  well  might  they  take  courage.  Mr.  Hapley 


MB.   TODD'S  PROPHECY.  281 

had  thus  far  sacredly  kept  his  promise  to  Benny. 
He  was  very  sad,  and  his  limbs  were  weak  and 
trembling,  and  there  was  a  terrible  craving  and 
gnawing  within,  that  neither  food  nor  ordinaiy  drink 
could  satisfy ;  still  he  struggled  manfully  against 
the  tempter,  and  friends  not  a  few  stood  by,  with 
words  of  encouragement  and  cheer.  Indeed,  with 
his  sober  and  subdued  air,  his  clean-shaven  face,  and 
the  general  tidiness  of  his  personal  appearance,  he 
already  seemed  like  a  different  man. 

The  reformation  of  Mr.  Hapley  was  much  talked 
of  among  his  neighbors  and  acquaintances,  and 
very  different  opinions  were  expressed  as  to  its  per- 
manence. It  was  generally  thought  that  he  would 
persevere,  but  there  were  some  who  had  little  faith 
in  his  good  purposes.  Old  Mr.  Todd,  who  held  a 
mortgage  on  his  farm,  and  who  was  regarded  as 
quite  an  oracle,  shook  his  head  in  a  knowing  man- 
ner, when  the  matter  was  mentioned  at  the  post 
office,  one  morning. 

"I've  known  Charles  Hapley,"  said  he,  "ever 
since  he  was  a  boy,  and  I  knew  his  father  before 
him.  The  old  man  had  the  best  farm  in  town,  but 

the  family  has  been  gradually  running  down  these 
24* 


282  UNCHAKITABLEXESS. 

twenty  years,  and  it's  my  opinion  that  Hapley 
will  die  a  drunkard,  as  his  father  did." 

"Now,  Squire,"  said  an  elderly  and  benevolent 
looking  man,  who  was  seated  on  the  counter,  "  it 
appears  to  me  you  are  a  little  too  hard  on  Hapley. 
They  say  he 's  stuck  it  out  for  more  'n  a  week,  and 
not  touched  a  drop  of  anything,  and  that 's  doing 
pretty  well,  for  him.  I  hold  that  we  all  ought  to 
encourage  the  poor  fellow  along,  and  not  go  around 
predicting  that  he  '11  die  a  drunkard." 

"  So  do  I  hold  to  encouraging  him  along,"  replied 
Mr.  Todd ;  "  but  at  the  same  time  I  do  n't  believe 
it  will  do  any  good.  He  never  did  have  any  con- 
trol over  himself,  from  a  boy,  and  I  do  n't  believe 
he's  going  to  keep  the  bridle  on  a  great  while, 
now.  You  see  if  he  does,  that 's  all." 

"  Guess  the  old  man  means  to  step  in  there,"  said 
some  one,  as  Mr.  Todd  went  his  way. 

"Yes,  it's  plain  enough  what  he's  after,"  said 
another. 

The  speakers  alluded  to  Mr.  Todd's  taking  pos- 
session of  the  Hapley  farm,  on  account  of  the  non- 
payment of  his  mortgage.  Their  conclusion  was  not 
a  very  charitable  one,  to  be  sure.  Nor  was  it  ex- 


M  A  Z  E  P  P  A  . 


283 


actly  kind  in  Mr.  Todd  to  predict  with  so  much 
assurance  the  relapse  of  Mr.  Hapley.  Still,  it  must 
be  admitted  that  he  had  pretty  strong  ground  for 
his  opinion,  though  he  need  not  have  been  so  free 
to  express  it.  The  lesson  of  self-government  is  a 
hard  one  to  learn  in  mature  life,  especially  to  a 
man  who  has  for  many  years  been  tyrannized  over 
by  depraved  appetites  and  passions.  The  position 
of  such  a  man  is  something  like  that  of  Mazeppa, 


the  young  page  of  a  Polish  king,  who  for  some 
offence  was  lashed,  naked,  to  the  back  of  a  wild 
horse,  which  was  then  set  free,  and  plunged  with 
frightful  speed  through  forest  and  plain  into  his 
native  country,  bearing  his  helpless  and  well-nigh 


284  THE     KELAPSE. 

lifeless  rider  with  him.  But  when  the  appetites 
and  passions  are  the  ruled,  and  not  the  rulers,  they 
may  be  compared  to  the  same  steed,  tamed  and 
docile,  bridled  and  saddled,  and  ready  to  do  your 
bidding.  Mazeppa,  it  is  true,  had  the  good  fortune 
to  survive  the  painful  ordeal,  and  lived  to  become 
a  prince;  but  we  think  few  would  be  willing  to 
run  such  a  race,  even  for  such  a  prize,  except  upon 
the  wild  horses  of  their  own  ungovernable  pas- 
sions. 

But  Mr.  Todd  proved  a  true  prophet,  in  this 
instance.  In  less  than  a  fortnight  after  Benny's 
death,  Mr.  Hapley  came  home  from  the  village  one 
afternoon  sadly  intoxicated.  How  he  happened  to 
fall,  was  never  explained  to  the  family.  He  had 
been  to  the  store  where  liquors  were  sold,  on  busi- 
ness, and  probably  the  wretched  sensation  in  his 
stomach,  aided  by  the  sight  and  smell  of  the 
tempter,  the  associations  of  the  place,  and  perhaps 
the  coaxings  of  the  drunkard-maker,  suddenly 
swept  away  the  breastwork  of  good  purposes  he 
had  erected.  He  tasted — he  fell;  and  what  a 
death-blow  was  that  act  to  the  hopes  and  peace  of 
his  poor  wife  and  children !  To  Mrs.  Hapley  and 


THE    EEL  APSE.  285 

Jessie,  especially,  it  seemed  as  if  the  last  hope  had 
been  swept  away. 

The  next  day,  when  Mr.  Hapley  realized  his  sit- 
uation, he  was  overcome  with  grief  and  shame. 
He  was,  moreover,  discouraged.  He  had  lost  both 
his  self-respect  and  his  self-reliance.  He  had  no 
longer  any  confidence  in  his  ability  to  keep  the 
pledge.  Meanwhile  his  thirst  for  the  deadly  liquid 
was  growing  more  insupportable  for  the  fresh  stim- 
ulus it  had  received.  In  this  pitiable  state  of  mind 
and  body,  he  went  again  in  the  afternoon  to  the 
rum-shop,  and  attempted  to  drown  his  sorrow  in  a 
still  deeper  potation.  Towards  night,  a  severe 
snow-storm  set  in,  but  he  did  not  return.  Hour 
after  hour  did  his  wife  sit  at  the  fire,  after  the  chil- 
dren had  retired,  listening  for  his  return ;  but  the 
wild  shriek  of  the  wind,  as  the  storm  waxed  more 
furious,  and  the  sharp  rattle  of  the  snow  against 
the  window  panes,  were  the  only  sounds  she  heard. 
At  length,  when  it  was  almost  midnight,  unable 
longer  to  bear  the  terrible  suspense,  she  aroused 
Henry  from  his  sleep,  and  told  him  to  go  over  to 
Mrs.  Page's,  and  ask  Marcus  if  he  would  not  take 
a  horse  and  ero  in  search  of  the  missing  man.  The 


286  A    DREADFUL    NIGHT. 

boy  dressed  himself,  and  plunged  into  the  huge 
snow-drifts.  lie  had  not  proceeded  far,  however, 
before  he  began  to  doubt  whether  he  should  be  able 
either  to  go  on  or  to  return.  Blinded  by  the  driv- 
ing storm,  transfixed  by  cutting  blasts,  the  divisions 
between  roads  and  fields  quite  obliterated,  and 
'floundering  in  snow  up  to  his  arm-pits,  he  sank 
exhausted,  more  than  once,  into  the  hole  he  had 
made ;  but  with  the  energy  of  despair,  he  again 
aroused  himself,  and  at  length  reached  Mrs.  Page's 
door-steps. 

After  considerable  effort,  some  of  the  family 
were  aroused,  and  Marcus,  on  learning  Henry's 
errand,  at  once  prepared  to  go  out  in  search  of  his 
father.  He  concluded  he  could  get  along  best  on 
horseback ;  and  putting  a  bridle  on  Charley,  the 
toughest  of  the  two  horses,  he  mounted  him,  and 
taking  Henry  behind  him,  carried  him  home.  He 
then  set  out  for  the  village,  by  the  route  Mr.  Ilap- 
ley  had  probably  taken,  which  led  him  directly  into 
the  teeth  of  the  storm.  But  he  found  it  impossible 
to  keep  in  the  road,  and  his  horse  soon  began  to 
sink  into  old  drifts  newly  buried,  and  to  flounder 
among  invisible  stones,  .stumps,  fences  and  pitfalls, 


FROZEN    HORSE     AND    RIDER.          287 

until,  at  last,  the  exhausted  creature  seemed  unable 
to  proceed  further.  Marcus  was  accordingly  obliged 
to  give  up  the  search,  of  which  fact  he  informed 
Mrs.  Hapley,  before  returning  home. 

The  storm  moderated  in  the  morning,  but  owing 
to  the  state  of  the  roads,  several  hours  elapsed 
before  arrangements  could  be  made  to  search  for 
the  missing  man.  In  the  course  of  the  forenoon, 
he  was  found,  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the 
road,  sitting  in  his  sleigh,  with  the  reins  in  his 
hands ;  but  the  rider  and  his  horse  were  both  frozen 
stiff.  The  horse  had  apparently  been  throAvn  down 
by  a  log,  and  was  unable  to  rise  without  assistance, 
which  the  unfortunate  rider  was  too  insensible  or 
too  benumbed  to  render.  So  they  perished  there 
alone,  and  were  well-nigh  buried  from  sight  before 
they  were  discovered.  A  jug  of  rum,  found  in  the 
sleigh,  furnished  a  sad  clue  to  the  catastrophe,  had 
any  been  needed. 

The  next  day,  a  new  grave  was  opened  in  the 
frozen  earth,  by  the  side  of  Benny's,  and  the  father 
was  laid  close  by  the  son  he  had  so  lately  promised 
to  meet  in  heaven,  and  to  whom  he  had  pledged 
himself  to  a  reformed  life.  O,  how  sad  is  such  a 


288  JESSIE. 

funeral,  when  hope,  and  honor,  and  happiness,  are 
consigned  to  the  tomb  with  the  remains  of  the  lost ! 
Truly,  in  such  a  case  "  't  is  the  survivor  dies." 

It  is  often  said  that  misfortunes  never  come  singly. 
So,  indeed,  did  it  prove  in  the  case  of  this  family. 
The  property  left  by  Mr.  Hapley  was  barely  suffi- 
cient to  pay  his  debts ;  and  as  most  of  it  was 
mortgaged,  very  little  remained  for  the  family. 
Notwithstanding  these  reverses,  Jessie  continued 
to  attend  the  academy,  and  was  still  "  trying  to  be 
somebody,"  as  Abby  Leonard  contemptuously  ex- 
pressed it,  though  that  young  lady,  it  should  be 
added,  now  manifested  something  like  pity  for  the 
heart-stricken  girl.  And  in  spite  of  the  drawbacks 
to  which  she  had  been  subjected,  Jessie  maintained 
a  high  rank  in  her  class,  winning  the  respect  alike 
of  teachers  and  scholars,  as  she  also  did  their  sym- 
pathy and  good-will.  But  there  were  few  among 
her  gay -hearted  school-mates  who  could  half  realize 
the  sorrows,  and  disappointments,  and  discourage- 
ments, that  were  mingled  in  her  cup. 

On  returning  from  school  one  afternoon,  she 
found  traces  of  weeping  on  the  face  of  her  mother, 
which  the  latter  for  a  time  declined  to  explain. 


POVERTY.  289 

The  reason,  however,  came  out  after  a  while.  On 
the  death  of  Mr.  Hapley,  as  he  left  no  will,  an  ad- 
ministrator was  appointed,  according  to  law,  to 
settle  up  his  estate ;  that  is,  to  take  charge  of  the 
property,  ascertain  and  pay  the  debts,  and  deliver 
the  balance,  if  any,  to  the  lawful  heirs.  This  ad- 
ministrator was  a  kind-hearted  man  named  Allen, 
who  had  always  shown  himself  very  friendly  to 
Mrs.  Hapley.  It  seemed  Mr.  Allen  had  called  upon 
her,  that  afternoon,  to  talk  about  her  husband's 
affairs.  There  was,  he  said,  but  little  more  than 
sufficient  property  to  pay  off  the  mortgages.  He 
advised  her,  therefore,  to  give  up  the  farm,  to  sell 
all  the  personal  property  they  could  dispense  with, 
and  to  find  homes  for  herself  and  children  else- 
where. The  children,  he  said,  were  all  old  enough 
to  support  themselves,  and  she  need  have  no  one 
but  herself  to  look  out  for. 

"Well,  mother,  that's  only  what  I  expected," 
said  Jessie,  when  the  matter  was  explained;  "we 
could  n  't  carry  on  the  farm,  if  we  should  stay  here, 
and  we  may  as  well  go  somewhere  else.  Grandpa 
said  he  would  give  you  a  home ;  Henry  can  get  a 

chance  to  live  with  some  farmer,  and  work  for  his 
25 


290  COMFORT    IN    TKIAL. 

board  and  clothes ;  Sam  can  earn  his  living,  if  he 
chooses  to ;  and  as  for  me,  I  will  go  to  some  factory 
town  and  work  in  a  mill,  and  in  a  little  time  I  shall 
be  able  to  support  you,  as  well  as  myself." 

"And  give  up  your  hope  of  becoming  a  teacher?" 
inquired  her  mother. 

"  Perhaps  not,"  replied  Jessie.  "  I  may  be  able 
to  fit  myself  for  teaching,  even  in  a  mill.  Girls 
have  done  such  things,  and  why  not  I  ?  " 

"  But  I  never  can  let  you  go  oif  alone  into  a  fac- 
tory," said  Mrs.  Hapley.  "  If  you  go,  I  must  go, 
too." 

"Well,  mother,"  added  Jessie,  after  a  pause, 
"we'll  manage  to  get  along  some  how,  only  don't 
let  us  get  discouraged.  We  know  it  is  all  for  the 
best,  and  every  thing  will  come  out  right  in  the 
end.  When  I  feel  sad,  I  repeat  to  myself  that 
beautiful  hymn  Mr.  Merrill  read  at  Benny's  funeral 
—  do  you  remember  it, mother  ?  "  and  Jessie  recited 
the  following  verses :  — 

"  O  Father,  good  or  evil  send, 

As  seemeth  best  to  thee, 
And  teach  my  stubborn  soul  to  bend 
In  love  to  thy  decree. 


BRAVE     WORDS.  291 

"  Whatever  come,  if  thou  wilt  bless 
The  brightness  and  the  gloom, 
And  temper  joy,  and  soothe  distress, 
I  fear  no  earthly  doom. 

"  Life  cannot  give  a  cureless  sting, 
Death  can  but  crown  my  bliss, 
And  waft  me  far,  on  angel's  wing, 
To  perfect  happiness." 

Jessie's  uncomplaining  spirit,  her  readiness  to 
sacrifice  her  most  cherished  hopes,  and  her  beauti- 
ful, child-like  faith  in  God,  shed  a  sweet  and  sooth- 
ing influence  upon  the  fainting  and  murmuring 
heart  of  the  mother.  A  little  while  after,  Henry 
came  in  from  school,  and  for  a  moment  looked 
rather  sad,  when  he  was  told  that  the  family  had 
got  to  remove  and  be  broken  up,  very  soon ;  but 
he  quickly  recovered  his  good  spirits,  saying :  — 

"  Well,  mother,  I  do  n't  care  much,  after  all.  Let 
Mr.  Todd  have  the  old  farm  if  he  wants  it  —  it 's 
all  run  out,  and  we  couldn't  do  anything  if  we 
staid  here.  I  know  I  can  earn  my  living,  if  any- 
body will  give  me  a  chance,  and  one  of  these  days 
I  '11  have  a  good  deal  better  farm  than  this  —  you 
see  if  I  do  n't !  Then  you  and  Jessie  shall  come 
and  live  with  me,  and  we  '11  all  be  together  again." 


292  PLANS. 

Henry  soon  found  a  chance  to  earn  his  living, 
for  Mr.  Allen  agreed  to  take  him  into  his  family  at 
once,  and  maintain  him  in  return  for  his  services. 
As  to  Jessie,  everybody  said  it  was  too  bad  to  send 
her  off  to  a  mill,  and  after  some  little  consultation, 
Mrs.  Page  proposed  a  plan  by  which  this  might  be 
avoided.  Ellen  Blake,  who  had  lived  with  the  Page 
family  for  some  time,  was  about  to  return  home,  on 
account  of  the  sickness  of  her  mother.  It  was  pro- 
posed to  let  Jessie  occupy  her  place  in  the  family, 
working  for  her  board,  until  she  should  finish  pre- 
paring herself  for  a  teacher.  She  was  to  attend 
the  academy  two  or  three  terms  more,  and  when 
not  engaged  in  her  studies,  was  to  render  all  the 
assistance  to  Mrs.  Page  she  could.  Her  mother 
was  to  clothe  her,  during  this  period,  and  it  was 
thought  that  after  the  present  term  she  could  ren- 
der some  assistance  in  the  lower  department,  and 
thus  secure  her  own  tuition  free.  When  this  plan 
was  proposed  to  Jessie,  she  seemed  very  grateful 
for  the  kindness  which  prompted  so  liberal  an  offer, 
but  was  unwilling  to  accept  of  it,  fearing  she  could 
make  no  adequate  return  for  her  board.  It  was 
only  after  considerable  persuasion  that  she  con- 


THE    FAMILY     SCATTEBED.  293 

sented  to  the  arrangement.  When  the  matter  was 
finally  settled,  Mrs.  Hapley  concluded  to  accept  an 
invitation  to  go  to  her  father's,  in  a  neighboring 
town,  and  make  that  her  home  until  she  could  do 

something  for  her  own  support. 
25* 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE    DIALOGUE. 

FT1HE  winter  term  of  the  academy  was  now  draw- 
ing towards  an  end,  and  preparations  were 
already  commenced  for  the  closing  examination 
and  exhibition.  Thus  far  the  term  had  been  a  very 
harmonious  and  prosperous  one,  and  the  students, 
with  but  few  exceptions,  had  made  good  progress. 
There  seemed,  indeed,  to  be  an  ^unusual  ambition 
and  rivalry  in  some  of  the  classes.  One  morning, 
the  following  line  from  Dr.  Young  was  found,  writ- 
ten in  a  large  hand  on  the  most  conspicuous  black- 
board in  the  room :  — 

"PRAISE  NO  MAN  E'ER  DESERVED,  WHO  SOUGHT  NO  MORE." 

After  the  usual  opening  exercises,  Mr.  Upton 
called  attention  to  it,  saying  it  contained  a  truth 
which  every  scholar  would  do  well  to  ponder. 


THE     TKUE    MOTIVE.  295 

"  If  we  aim  at  excellence  as  students,"  he  added, 
"  merely  to  secure  praise,  and  to  gain  a  prize,  or 
for  the  love  of  excelling,  we  are  giving  ourselves 
up  to  a  very  mean  and  unworthy  motive.  What- 
ever we  may  accomplish  or  win,  under  the  influence 
of  such  a  base  impulse,  we  shall  really  deserve 
neither  praise  nor  reward.  Can  any  of  you  explain 
what  is  the  true  and  proper  motive  for  the  stu- 
dent?" 

There  was  a  pause.  Finding  no  one  was  likely 
to  respond,  Jessie  Hapley  arose,  and  said :  — 

"  I  suppose  we  ought  to  seek  knowledge  because 
it  is  good,  in  itself,  and  because  it  will  increase  our 
usefulness,  hereafter." 

"  That  is  a  very  good  answer,"  replied  Mr.  Up- 
ton. "There  may  be  other  lawful  motives  for 
studying  hard,  such  as  a  wish  to  please  our  parents 
and  friends,  or  to  better  our  condition  in  the  world, 
or  to  gratify  our  own  tastes ;  but  the  noblest  and 
purest  motive  is  that  which  Miss  Hapley  has  given 
—  knowledge  is  a  good  thing  in  itself,  and  is  a  ' 
mighty  power  for  good,  in  the  hands  of  one  who 
aims  to  serve  God  and  bless  the  world.  Compared 
with  such  a  motive  as  this,  how  contemptible  is  the 


296  A    LITEKAKY    ENTEKPKISE. 

ambition  which  seeks  only  to  shine  on  examination 
day,  or  to  outdo  a  rival,  or  take  the  highest  prize ! 
That  we  may  bear  .this  in  mind,  we  will  let  this 
motto  remain  before  us  until  the  blackboard  is 
needed  for  other  purposes." 

Ronald  was  a  very  good  declaimer,  as  were  sev- 
eral others  of  the  boys  in  his  class.  Marcus  had 
given  him  some  encouragement  that  he  would  pre- 
pare an  original  dialogue  for  Ronald  and  a  few  of 
his  class-mates  to  bring  out  at  the  exhibition.  This 
half-promise  he  was  now  reminded  of,  almost  daily, 
until  at  length  he  agreed  that  if  lion  aid  would  find 
a  suitable  plot  or  subject  for  a  dialogue,  he  would 
assist  him  in  putting  it  upon  paper.  This,  he  said, 
was  all  he  could  promise  to  do,  at  present.  Ronald 
was  at  first  a  little  discouraged  by  this  proposal ; 
but  setting  his  wits  to  work,  in  a  day  or  two  he 
suggested  to  Marcus  a  plan  of  a  dialogue. 

"  I  should  think  we  might  make  something  out 
of  that,"  said  Marcus,  after  Ronald  had  explained 
the  plan.  "KTow  you  sit  down,  and  write  out  a 
rough  outline  of  it,  and  then  let  me  see  it." 

"  But  you  said  you  would  help  me  write  it  out," 
said  Ronald. 


THE    DIALOGUE.  297 

"  So  I  will,"  replied  Marcus ;  "  but  I  want  you 
to  do  what  you  can,  first,  without  my  help.  After 
you  have  made  your  first  draft,  we  will  go  over  it 
together,  and  see  what  improvements  we  can  make 
in  it." 

"But  I  can't  do  it  —  I  don't  know  where  to 
begin,"  pleaded  Ronald. 

"O,  yes,  you  can,"  replied  Marcus.  "Write  it 
out  just  as  you  explained  it  to  me,  and  that  will  be 
a  good  beginning." 

Ronald  at  length  mustered  courage  enough  to 
make  the  attempt.  His  dialogue  was  of  course 
quite  imperfect,  but  it  served  as  a  good  basis  for 
Marcus  to  work  upon.  Two  or  three  evenings 
were  spent  over  it,  by  the  joint  authors,  before  it 
was  pronounced  satisfactory.  When  completed, 
the  ideas  and  incidents  of  the  piece  were  for  the 
most  part  Ronald's,  while  they  were  indebted  to 
Marcus  for  much  of  the  language  in  which  they 
were  clothed,  and  for  the  gen  era!  arrangement  they 
assumed. 

The  following  is  a  copy  of  the  dialogue,  as  it 
read  when  completed.  The  part  which  Ronald 
decided  to  take  was  that  of  "  Joseph  Foot"  as  his 


298  THE    DIALOGUE. 

powers  of  mimicry  enabled  him  to  imitate  the  back- 
woods dialect  very  successfully : 

HEAD    AND   FOOT. 

SCENE  —  A  school-room^  icith  a  class  of  ten  or 
ttcelve  boys,  seated  on  a  bench.  PRINCIPAL  CHAR- 
ACTERS —  JOHN  HEAD,  icho  is  at  the  head  of  the 
class,  and  JOSEPH  FOOT,  a  wonderfully  good- 
natured  backwoods  lad,  who  is  at  the  other  ex- 
tremity. 

HEAD  [rising,  and  holding  in  his  hand  some- 
thing concealed  in  a  cloth.~\  —  Friends  and  class- 
mates !  We  have  passed  through  the  dread  ordeal  of 
another  examination.  Our  grave  and  reverend 
seigniors  have  set  in  solemn  inquisition  over  us,  to 
their  hearts'  content.  They  have  weighed  us,  and 
gauged  us,  and  tested  us,  and  dissected  and  analyzed 
us,  till  we  feel  as  if  they  had  found  out  about  all  we 
know,  besides  some  things  that  we  do  n't  know. 
Our  learned  and  venerable  teacher,  of  whom  we 
would  ever  speak  with  affection  and  esteem,  has 
shown  us  in  all  our  paces  —  trotting  through  our 
declamations  and  reading  lessons,  at  a  lively  rate  — 
tripping  lightly  among  the  big  words  in  the  dic- 
tionary—  limping  over  verbs,  and  participles,  and 
relatives,  and  copulatives  —  stumbling  among  cubes 


x  TUE    DIALOGUE.  299 

and  roots,  and  the  vulgarest  of  fractions  —  and 
floundering  in  a  sea  of  forgotten  geographical  names 
and  latitudes. 

BOY.  —  I  say,  Johnny,  there 's  one  of  your  paces 
he  did  n't  put  you  through  to-day  —  that 's  the  pace 
you  exhibited  when  he  flogged  you  round  the 
school-room  and  out  of  the  window,  the  other 
day. 

SEVERAL  BOYS.  —  Order !  order !  order ! 

HEAD.  —  I  will  only  say  to  my  tow-headed  col- 
league from  Misery  Swamp,  that  if  his  insulting 
personalities  were  not  entirely  out  of  place  on  such 
an  occasion  as  this,  I  would  stop  and  settle  with 
him  on  the  spot  [shaking  his  fist.] 

SEVERAL  BOYS.  —  Order!  order!  order! 

ANOTHER  BOY. — That's  right,  Johnny  —  stand 
up  for  your  honor !  Form  a  ring,  boys,  and  let  'em 
fight  it  out ! 

BOYS.  —  Order !     Shame !     (with  hisses.} 

HEAD.  —  Some  of  you  called  me  to  order  —  I 
should  like  to  know  why. 

A  BOY.  —  It  isn't  parliamentary  to  shake  your 
fist  at  a  fellow. 

HEAD.  —  I  do  n't  care  for  that.  We  've  nothing 
to  do  with  parliamentary  rules,  here  —  we  are  gov- 
erned by  Congressional  usage;  and  it's  Congres- 
sional to  shake  your  fists,  and  use  them,  too,  if  you 
choose.  Does  anybody  deny  that  ? 


300  THE    DIALOGUE. 

A  BOY. — Enough  said  —  go  on  with  your  speech, 
Johnny. 

HEAD.  —  Well,  as  I  was  saying,  we  have  passed 
through  the  fiery  trial  of  another  examination,  and 
the  magnificent  series  of  prizes  —  the  total  cost  of 
which  to  our  beloved  teacher,  as  I  learn  from  good 
authority,  could  not  have  been  less  than  one  dollar 
and  twenty-five  cents  —  have  all  been  awarded. 
As  is  apt  to  be  the  case,  I  believe,  on  such  occa- 
sions, some  three  or  four  scholars  who  are  supposed 
to  be  brighter  than  their  fellows,  have  carried  away 
all  the  prizes,  leaving  absolutely  nothing  for  the 
great  body  of  the  school.  Now  it  has  seemed  to 
-  some  of  the  more  philanthropic  members  of  the 
class  that  this  is  hardly  fair;  and  to  equalize  in 
some  degree  this  unjust  scale  of  awards,  it  was 
suggested  that  we  all  unite  and  purchase  an  ap- 
propriate offering  for  the  poorest  scholar  in  the 
class.  Though  it  was  my  fortune,  or  misfortune, 
whichever  you  choose  to  regard  it,  to  take  the 
highest  prize  offered  to  this  class,  consisting  of  a 
touching  account  of  a  dear  little  girl  who  never 
was  naughty,  and  died  young  — 

A  BOY.  —  O  my !     Lend  it  to  me,  Johnny,  wont 
you? 

SEVERAL  BOYS.  —  And  me,  too !    And  me,  too 
And  me  too ! 


THE     DIALOGUE.  301 

• 

A  BOY.  —  There,  John  Head !  It 's  too  bad  to 
make  fun  of  your  prize. 

HEAD.  —  I  beg  your  pardon,  I  'in  not  making  fun 
of  it.  But  I  wish  folks  would  n't  interrupt  me. 
You  put  me  out  so,  that  I  do  n't  know  as  I  can  get 
through  with  my  speech.  As  I  was  saying,  although 
I  took  the  prize  myself,  I  go  in  for  doing  justice  to 
all,  and  am  happy  to  comply  with  the  request,  to 
present  this  testimonial  of  respect  and  affection  to 
our  esteemed  friend  who  heads  the  other  end  of  the 
class,  as  an  Irishman  might  say.  Brother  Joseph 
Foot,  will  you  please  to  rise  ?  [Foot  rises,  with  a 
broad  grin  on  hisface.~\ 

A  BOY.  —  Brother  Foot  is  on  his  feet. 

HEAD.  —  My  dear  sir,  you  have  been  selected  as 
the  honorable  recipient  of  a  testimonial  from  your 
class-mates,  out  of  respect  to  the  position  you  oc- 
cupy, as  the  lowest  round  of  our  literary  ladder. 
Your  quick  native  intelligence  probably  will  not 
demand  that  I  should  attempt  to  prove  that  there 
must  be  one  round  in  the  ladder  lower  than  all  the 
others ;  and  I  suppose  it  is  equally  evident  to  your 
enlightened  mind,  that  if  you  constitute  this  round, 
yourself,  the  rest  of  us  can  be  spared  for  other  and 
higher  posts  of  duty.  We  should,  therefore,  and  I 
trust  do,  feel  truly  grateful  to  you  for  settling  down 
so  permanently  and  contentedly  into  this  impor- 
26 


302  THE    DIALOGUE. 

tant  and  truly  fundamental  office,  thus  relieving  us 
from  all  anxiety  in  regard  to  it.  Your  position 
may  seem  an  humble  one,  but  I  may  say  for  my- 
self, that  I  have  considerable  respect  for  it.  I  like 
to  see  a  person  decidedly  one  thing  or  another. 
Let  those  eat  luke-warm  porridge  who  love  it  —  I 
prefer  mine  either  hot  or  cold.  Moreover,  the 
brighter  scholars  of  the  class  are  indebted  to  you 
not  a  little  for  their  brilliancy,  like  the  stars  at 
night,  which  owe  much  of  their  beauty  to  the  dark 
background.  But  the  chief  comfort  and  satisfac- 
tion of  your  life  must  be  the  thought  that  many  of 
the  greatest  men  the  world  has  produced  have  been 
very  dull  and  stupid  boys.  It  is  said  that  the 
bright  boys  of  the  school  and  the  college  are  sel- 
dom heard  from,  when  they  become  men.  Accord- 
ing to  this  rule,  we  may  confidently  hope  to  hear 
a  tremendous  report  from  yourself,  one  of  these 
days. 

Accept,  then,  classmate,  this  slight  token  of  good- 
will and  esteem,  from  your  friends.  It  is  a  heart 
tribute,  whose  expressiveness  and  significance  will 
doubtless  be  appreciated  by  you.  Accept  it — and 
while  you  indulge  the  fond  consciousness  that  you 
have  attained  to  this  distinction  without  resorting: 

O 

to  selfish  and  unworthy  means,  you  may  also  com- 
fort yourself  with  the  grateful  assurance  that  you 


THE     D  I  A  L  O  G  U  E  .  303 

have  escaped  the  sting  of  envy  —  that  inevitable 
bane  of  the  prize  scholar. 

[He  uncovers  the  testimonial,  which  proves  to  be 
a  callage,  and  stepping  up  to  FOOT,  who  stands 
grinning,  proffers  it  to  Mm.'] 

BOY.  —  Why  do  n't  you  take  it,  Jo  ?  —  it 's  a  big 
rose. 

ANOTHER  BOY.  —  Yes,  Jo,  take  it  —  he  wont 
charge  you  anything  for  it. 

FOOT  {taking  the  callage."]  Wall,  I  guess  it 's 
good  to  b'ile,  any  heow. 

HEAD.  —  But,  my  good  friend,  you  do  not  propose 
to  consign  this  token  of  esteem  from  your  class- 
mates to  the  dinner-pot,  as  though  it  were  nothing 
but  a  common  vegetable ! 

FOOT  [surveying  first  the  callage,  and  then 
JOHN'S  head.']  Wall,  'tis  'most  too  bad  to  b'ile  it 
—  sich  a  good  likeness  o'  your  top-piece.  They 
say  all  flesh  is  grass,  but  I  guess  some  folks'  heads 
do  n't  want  much  of  bcin'  cabbages,  neow  that 's  a 
fact.  [HEAD  walks  lack  to  his  seat.]  Jest  look, 
neow !  it 's  the  very  image  of  his  head,  behind, 
is  n't  it,  you  ? 

SEVERAL  BOYS.  —  Good !     Good !     Ha,  ha,  ha ! 

FOOT  [examining  the  callage.']  Wall,  this  'ere 's 
a  pooty  good  sort  of  a  cabbage,  any  heow,  and  a 
feller  had  n't  oughter  make  fun  of  it.  But  if 't  be- 


304  THE    DIALOGUE. 

longs  to  the  biggest  fool  in  the  class,  I  shall  feel  as 
if  I  was  cheatin'  you,  Johnny,  if  I  keep  it. 

HEAD.  —  O,  no,  Jo,  do  n't  be  too  modest — there 's 
no  doubt  you  have  the  best  claim  —  the  whole 
class  voted  it  to  you. 

FOOT.  —  Wall,  s'posin'  I  ken  prove  that  you  're 
the  feller  that  oughter  had  it  ? 

O 

HEAD.  —  You  can't  do  that  little  thing,  Johnny  — 
if  you  can,  I  '11  eat  the  cabbage  raw. 

FOOT.  —  I  do  n't  take  no  stumps,  but  if  yer  want 
to  bet,  jest  say  so.  I'll  bet  this  'ere  'token,'  as  yer 
call  it,  ag'inst  a  quarter  dollar,  that  you  oughter 
have  it. 

HEAD.  —  Agreed.  \_Fumbles  in  his  pockets  for 
money  J]  Here 's  the  quarter. 

FOOT.  —  So  'tis!  Wall,  here's  the  cabbage. 
Bill,  you  hold  the  stakes,  -will  you  ?  [Bill  takes 
tliem.~] 

A  BOY.  —  You  're  sold,  Johnny,  as  sure  as  a  gun  ! 
He  's  got  it  on  to  you ! 

HEAD  [scratching  his  head  a  moment.']  Why, 
Jo  is  going  to  put  down  a  quarter,  too,  is  n't  he  ? 

FOOT.  —  Xo,  he  is  n't  going  to  put  down  a  quar- 
ter tew,  nuther.  I  said  I  'd  bet  this  'ere  cabbage 
ag'inst  a  quarter  —  did  n't  I,  boys  ? 

A  BOY.  —  Yes,  that  is  just  what  he  said. 

HEAD.  —  O,  I  did  n't  understand  it  so. 


THE    DIALOGUE.  305 

FOOT.  —  O,  wall,  you  ken  back  deown  if  you 
wanter —  I  knowed  it  would  be  jest  so. 

HEAD.  —  But  I  sha  n't  back  down,  so  go  ahead 
and  win  the  bet,  if  you  can. 

FOOT.  —  Wont  you,  though?  Seems  to  me  I 
would,  if  I 's  in  such  a  fix. 

HEAD.  —  O  yes,  you  want  to  back  out  yourself, 
do  n't  you  ? 

FOOT.  —  Wall,  no,  I  Ve  gone  so  far  I  wont  back 
eout ;  but  I  '11  tell  ye  what,  Johnny,  I  do  n't  want  to 
git  away  your  money,  so  I  '11  give  in  han'somely. 
The  cabbage  is  yourn  ! 

\_  General  laughter  and  clapping  of  hands  in  the 
class,  with  cries  of  Good !  Capital !  You  've  got  to 
eat  it  raw,  Johnny !  &c.] 

FOOT.  —  There,  now,  I  '11  leave  it  to  all  hands  if 
Johnny  had  n't  oughter  have  that  'ere  cabbage  ? 

ALL.  —  Yes!  yes!  To  be  sure  he  had!  All 
right!  &c. 

FOOT.  —  Then  I  '11  take  that  'ere  quarter,  Bill  —  I 
b'lieve  I  've  won  my  bet ! 

[Renewed  demonstrations  of  merriment  through 
the  class.~\ 

HEAD.  —  But  stop,  I  thought  you  just  backed  out 
from  the  bet. 

FOOT.  —  Back  eout?  No  such  thing  —  I  said  I 
would  n't  back  out,  any  way.  I  only  kinder  made 
26* 


306  THE    DIALOGUE. 

you  think  I  'd  give  in  beat,  but  I  won  the  wager 
fairly,  arter  all,  did  n't  I,  boys  ? 

SEVERAL  BOYS.  —  Yes!  yes!  So  he  did.  It's 
all  fair. 

FOOT.  —  Wall,  Johnny,  if  I  've  won,  I  expect  that 
'ere  cabbage  b'longs  to  me,  tew.  But  I  do  n't  want 
to  be  hard  on  yer ;  besides,  'twixt  you  and  I  and 
the  teown  pump,  I  do  n't  'prove  of  bettin',  for  dad 
says  it 's  jest  about  as  bad  as  gamblin' ;  so  s'posin' 
we  jest  swap  even  —  I  '11  keep  the  quarter,  and  you 
may  have  the  cabbage,  and  eat  it  raw  or  b'iled,  jest 
as  you  please.  It 's  a  pooty  good  price  for  it,  I  ex- 
pect, but  what 's  the  use  of  a  feller's  tradin',  if  he 
can't  make  something  ? 

HEAD.  —  Well,  Jo,  you  sha  n't  say  I  'm  such  a 
fool  that  I  do  n't  know  when  I  'm  fairly  cornered. 
I'll  own  up  handsomely,  that  I  went  to  gather 
wool,  and  came  home  shorn ;  so  you  may  keep  the 
quarter,  and  I  '11  take  the  cabbage.  Here,  Bill,  pass 
over  the  property.  \JBill  obcys.~\  Boys,  I'll  just 
say  to  you,  that  the  next  time  you  want  to  make  a 
present  to  the  foot  of  the  class,  you  will  have  to 
get  somebody  else  to  be  your  orator.  And  to  you, 
Jo,  I  will  frankly  confess  that  you  have  taught  me 
a  lesson  I  shall  never  forget.  I  have  learned  that 
a  boy  is  not  necessarily  a  fool,  because  he  is  at  the 
foot  of  his  class,  and  that  excellent  as  book  learn- 


THE     DIALOGUE . 


307 


ing  is,  common  sense  and  mother  wit  are  sometimes 
more  than  a  match  for  it. 

FOOT.  —  Thank  ye,  Johnny ;  you  done  that  han'- 
somely,  that 's  a  fact.  Neow,  Jake,  you  jest  run 
over  to  the  bake-shop,  and  git  as  much  gingerbread 
as  this  'ere  quarter  will  buy,  and  we  '11  have  a  gin- 
eral  treat  all  reound.  \IIands  Mm  the  money.] 

{Exit  JAKE.     Curtain  falls. ,] 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

CLOSE     OF    THE     TEEM. 

64  YTTHAT  is  the  matter,  Oscar?  you  look  quite 
sober,"  said  Mrs.  Page,  one  afternoon,  as 
Oscar  came  into  the  kitchen,  on  his  return  from 
school,  and  began  to  take  oif  his  boots. 

"  I  should  like  to  know,"  replied  Oscar,  "  why  I 
don't  get  a  letter  from  home.  I've  been  to  the 
post  office  every  day  for  a  fortnight,  expecting  one, 
and  it  has  n't  come  yet." 

"  Why,  it  does  n't  seem  a  great  while  since  you 
had  a  letter  from  your  mother;  how  long  is  it?" 
inquired  his  aunt. 

"  Let  me  see,"  replied  Oscar,  reckoning  the  time 
in  his  head ;  "why,  it  was  just  six  weeks  last  Satur- 
day." 

"  That  is  n't  a  very  long  time  to  wait  for  a  letter, 


A     SURPRISE.  309 

for  a  boy  of  your  age,  who  has  been  away  from 
home  as  much  as  you  have,"  replied  Mrs.  Page. 

"  I  know  it,"  replied  Oscar ;  "  but  they  agreed  to 
write,  some  of  them,  every  month ;  and  besides,  I 
believe  I  think  more  of  letters  from  home  than  I 
used  to." 

"  That  is  a  good  sign,  if  you  do,"  replied  Mrs. 
Page ;  "  only  you  must  be  sure  and  do  your  share 
of  the  correspondence." 

"  I  have  done  my  share,"  continued  Oscar.  "  I 
have  written  regularly  every  month,  almost  from 
the  time  I  came  here." 

"  Then  I  think  you  will  hear  from  home  soon," 
replied  Mrs.  Page. 

"  Sooner  than  he  expects,  perhaps,"  said  a  voice 
from  the  sitting-room,  the  door  of  which,  opening 
from  the  kitchen,  stood  ajar. 

"Why,  mother !  is  that  you?"  cried  Oscar,  spring- 
ing to  the  door ;  "  and  you,  too,  father !  Why,  who 
would  have  thought  you  were  in  here,  hearing  me 
scold  about  you ! " 

It  was  even  so.  Oscar's  parents  had  arrived  late 
in  the  afternoon,  quite  unexpectedly,  to  make  a 
short  visit,  and  his  aunt,  as  he  entered  the  room, 


310  THE     EXHIBITION. 

conceived  the  idea  of  withholding  the  news  from 
him  for  a  few  moments,  to  render  his  surprise  the 
more  complete.  The  warm  greeting  need  not  be 
described ;  bitt  it  may  be  well  to  add,  that  both  his 
father  and  mother  protested  that  they  were  not  in 
the  slightest  degree  displeased  with  the  "scolding" 
they  had  overheard,  and  promised  there  should  be 
no  further  occasion  for  it,  if  they  could  help  it. 

The  examination  and  exhibition  of  the  academy 
took  place,  in  a  few  days,  and  a  part  of  the  exercises 
were  attended  by  Oscar's  parents.  Two  days  Avere 
devoted  to  this  business,  and,  as  usual,  they  were 
arduous  and  anxious  days  to  both  teachers  and 
students.  The  committee  who  conducted  the  ex- 
amination, like  the  similar  body  mentioned  in  the 
dialogue,  seemed  bound  to  find  out  all  that  the 
students  knew,  and  a  good  deal  more.  The  schol- 
ars, however,  stood  their  ground  well,  and  when 
the  examination  was  concluded,  Mr.  Merrill,  the 
village  clergyman,  pronounced  it  one  of  the  most 
satisfactory  he  had  ever  attended  in  that  place. 
Then  came  the  closing  entertainment,  or  exhibition, 
in  which  speaking,  reading  compositions,  singing, 
etc.,  were  the  order  of  the  day.  This,  too,  passed 


THE    SURPRISE    PARTY.  3H 

off  quite  successfully.  The  whole  concluded  with 
the  award  of  prizes.  Among  the  successful  com- 
petitors were  Jessie  Hapley,  who  took  one  of  the 
highest  premiums,  for  superior  scholarship  and  good 
conduct ;  Oscar,  who  received  a  handsome  volume, 
for  faithful  endeavors ;  Harrison  Clark,  who  was 
awarded  a  prize  for  general  improvement;  and 
Charles  Wilder,  who  received  a  gift  for  several  fine 
drawings  exhibited  by  him. 

In  the  evening  after  the  exhibition,  all  of  the 
students  and  teachers  of  the  academy  assembled 
at  the  house  of  Mr.  Upton,  the  preceptor,  to  make 
him  a  surprise  visit.  The  affair  Avas  so  well  man- 
aged, that  he  knew  nothing  of  the  intentions  of 
his  pupils  until  they  began  to  pour  into  his  house. 
But  cheerful  fires  were  soon  blazing  on  the  hearths 
of  the  principal  rooms,  fresh  lamps  were  lit,  and  a 
dozen  or  two  of  chairs  were  brought  in  from  a 
neighbor's,  which  were  all  the  preparations  deemed 
necessary  for  the  occasion.  The  hours  were  enliv- 
ened with  social  intercourse,  and  games,  and  music, 
and  mirth,  in  which  all  participated  with  the  utmost 
freedom  and  good-will.  No  refreshments  except 
apples  were  offered,  one  of  the  elder  pupils  having 


312  THE     OFFERING. 

considerately  informed  Mr.  Upton  at  the  outset 
that  "  they  had  eaten  their  suppers  once,  and  con- 
sidered that  sufficient,  Avhether  at  home  or  abroad." 

In  the  course  of  the  evening,  by  some  manoeuvre 
which  he  did  not  clearly  understand,  Mr.  Upton 
found  himself  suddenly  surrounded  by  the  whole 
body  of  his  pupils,  and  immediately  one  of  their 
number,  a  young  lady,  commenced  addressing  him 
in  a  set  speech.  She  held  in  her  hand  an  elegantly 
bound  book,  which,  after  a  neat  address,  she  handed 
to  the  preceptor.  This  book  was  entitled,  "The 
Ifighburg  Academy  Offering  to  their  Beloved 
Friend  and  Preceptor,  Robert  Upton,  A.  M?  It 
contained  the  autograph  signature  of  every  scholar 
connected  with  the  institution,  to  each  of  which 
was  prefixed  a  verse  or  two  of  appropriate  poetry, 
or  a  few  prose  sentences,  original  or  selected,  tran- 
scribed by  the  several  writers.  The  volume  also 
contained  quite  a  number  of  drawings,  Avater-color 
paintings,  maps,  etc.,  executed  by  the  scholars. 

The  origin  of  this  unique  volume  was  as  follows : 
At  the  close  of  several  of  the  previous  terms,  Mr. 
Upton  had  received  gifts  from  his  scholars,  which 
were  of  considerable  value  in  themselves.  Fearing 


MAKING     PRESENTS.  313 

the  practice  of  making  such  presents  might  entail 
too  heavy  a  tax  on  some  of  the  poorer  scholars,  or 
subject  them  to  the  unpleasant  duty  of  declining 
to  contribute  their  portion  to  the  fund,  he  deter- 
mined to  discourage  the  custom  in  future.  Ac- 
cordingly a  few  weeks  before  the  present  term 
closed,  he  confidentially  intimated  his  feelings  to 
several  of  the  older  and  more  influential  pupils, 
and  requested  them,  in  case  a  presentation  should 
be  proposed,  to  nip  the  enterprise  in  the  bud. 
When,  therefore,  one  and  another  began  to 
speak  of  presenting  a  testimonial  to  the  preceptor, 
they  were  apprized  that  such  a  proceeding  would 
be  contrary  to  his  wishes.  But  this  only  set  their 
wits  to  work,  and  in  a  little  time  a  project  was  on 
foot,  which,  it  was  thought,  would  at  once  give 
suitable  expression  to  the  feelings  of  the  scholars, 
and  yet  avoid  the  objection  he  had  named  to  such 
gifts.  A  quantity  of  paper,  of  uniform  size  and 
quality,  was  distributed  among  the  pupils,  and  each 
was  requested  to  write  something  upon  a  sheet, 
and  sign  his  name  to  it.  Drawings  and  paintings 
on  paper  were  also  solicited,  from  all  who  received 
instructions  in  those  branches,  and  such  as  were 


314  AN    APPROPRIATE    O  I  F  T  . 

deemed  worthy,  "were  accepted  for  the  collection. 
These  materials  were  then  collected  and  arranged, 
and  sent  to  a  book-binder  in  another  town,  who 
bound  them  together  into  a  handsome  volume,  with 
gilt  cover  and  edges.  Thus,  at  a  trifling  expense, 
a  novel,  beautiful,  and,  to  the  teacher,  a  really  val- 
uable keepsake  was  procured. 

JMr.  Upton  was  quite  taken  by  surprise  by  the 
gift,  and  in  his  reply  to  the  presentation  address, 
said  it  was  peculiarly  acceptable  and  pleasing  to 
him,  because  its  cost  to  the  donors  had  been  chiefly 
an  expenditure  of  time,  care,  ingenuity,  and  taste, 
rather  than  money.  A  gift  procured  at  such  a  price, 
he  said,  Avas  far  more  appropriate  as  an  expression 
of  esteem  and  affection,  under  the  circumstances, 
than  one  purchased  simply  by  money,  no  matter 
how  costly.  It  was  far  more  precious  to  him,  too, 
as  it  contained  something  which  would  cause  him 
to  remember  every  one  of  them,  as  long  as  he 
lived. 

As  soon  as  these  ceremonies  were  concluded,  one 
of  the  boys  brought  and  laid  upon  the  table  a  port- 
able rosewood  writing-desk,  of  plain  but  neat  and 
substantial  workmanship. 


ANOTHER    SURPRISE.  315 

"  Mr.  Page,  will  you  please  to  step  this  way  ?  " 
said  Harrison  Clark,  who  stood  near  the  table. 

Marcus  came  forward,  whereupon  Harrison  pro- 
ceeded at  once  to  address  him,  as  follows :  — 

"  DE*AR  TEACHER  :  —  It  is  my  pleasing  task  to 
present  to  you  this  writing-desk,  in  behalf  of  the 
pupils  of  Highburg  Academy,  and  to  ask  your  ac- 
ceptance of  the  same.  The  same  considerations 
which  governed  us  in  the  selection  of  a  testimonial 
for  our  worthy  preceptor,  restrained  us  from  pro- 
curing a  more  expensive  one  for  yourself.  It  is  a 
plain  and  simple  article  of  utility  that  we  offer  you; 
but  though  its  intrinsic  worth  be  small,  we  trust  it 
will  possess  some  slight  value  in  your  eyes,  as  a 
memento  of  the  affection,  esteem  and  gratitude 
which  we  all  entertain  towards  you.  The  ability 
and  success  with  which  you  discharged  the  ardu- 
ous duties  of  the  preceptor  for  several  weeks,  dur- 
ing his  illness,  the  fidelity  with  which  you  have 
labored  through  the  term  in  your  own  sphere,  the 
gentle  and  patient  spirit  with  which  you  have  borne 
the  many  short-comings  and  provocations  of  those 
of  us  who  have  been  more  immediately  xinder  your 
charge,  and  the  firm  yet  always  kind  manner  in 
which  you  have  led  us  on  in  our  studies,  and  re- 
strained us  in  our  errors,  have  made  an  impression 
on  our  hearts  which  time  will  not  efface.  Many  of 


316  EEPLY    OF    MAECUS. 

us  hope  for  a  continuance  of  this  pleasant  inter- 
course, in  months  to  come ;  but  those  of  our  num- 
ber who  now  meet  you  for  the  last  time  as  your 
scholars,  could  not  let  this  opportunity  pass  with- 
out a  public  expression  of  our  gratitude  and  esteem. 
Accept,  then,  dear  sir,  this  slight  token  of  our  af- 
fection and  good  will,  and  may  the  good  Father  of 
all  grant  you  a  long,  a  useful  and  a  happy  life ! " 

To  this  Marcus  responded : 

"Mr  YOUNG  FRIENDS:  —  I  came  hereto  help 
you  surprise  your  worthy  preceptor,  and  had  no 
idea  that  any  such  trick  as  this  was  in  the  pro- 
gramme. You  have  taken  me  by  surprise,  most 
completely.  I  rather  feel  as  if  you  had  got  the 
advantage  of  me,  too.  You  knew  you  couldn't 
do  this  to  the  general,  with  impunity,  and  so  you 
thought  you  would  try  it  on  his  aid-de-camp.  I 
shall  look  out  for  you,  another  time,  you  sly  rogues! 
But  I  wont  scold  you  very  hard,  this  time.  No,  I 
will  rather  frankly  confess  that  this  is  the  proudest 
moment  of  my  life.  Young  and  inexperienced  as 
I  am,  such  a  gift  from  my  first  scholars,  accom- 
panied by  such  kind  and  flattering  words,  may  well 
make  me  proud.  I  accept  it  with  gratitude,  only 
wishing  that  my  poor  efforts  were  more  worthy  of 
such  a  reward.  I  am  sure  that  no  honors  or  gifts 


MARCUS'S  PRESENT.  317 

that  may  fall  to  my  lot  hereafter,  can  ever  displace 
from  my  heart  the  memory  of  this  token  of  esteem 
from  the  first  pupils  I  have  had  the  honor  and 
pleasure  to  instruct.  May  Heaven  reward  3-011  for 
your  kindness,  and  bless  you  in  all  your  ways ! " 

The  desk  presented  to  Marcus  was  supplied  with 
a  variety  of  stationery,  and  was  really  a  beautiful 
and  appropriate  gift.  He  learned,  afterward,  that 
Harrison,  the  once  mischievous  and  troublesome 
scholar,  had  been  foremost  in  procuring  the  testi- 
monial. Marcus  always  wondered,  however,  how 
the  matter  could  have  been  kept  from  him  so  com- 
pletely, inasmuch  as  every  one  in  the  family  but 
himself  was  let  into  the  secret. 

Oscar's  parents  were  much  pleased  with  the  part 
he  sustained  in  the  examination  and  exhibition,  and 
with  the  general  improvement  visible  in  his  con- 
duct, habits  and  character.  They  left  for  home, 
the  next  day,  but  not  \vntil  they  had  expressed 
their  warmest  thanks  for  the  interest  manifested  by 
Marcus  and  his  mother  and  aunt  in  Oscar,  and 
their  gratification  on  beholding  the  improvement 
he  had  made  under  their  care.  After  their  depar- 
ture, Oscar  discovered  an  addition  to  the  inscrip- 
27* 


318  THE    INSCRIPTION. 

tion  in  his  prize  book,  written  in  the  delicate  hand 
o£  his  mother.  The  inscription  now  read  as  fol- 
lows, the  first  three  lines  being  from  the  pen  of 
Mr.  Upton,  and  the  other  three  by  Mrs.  Preston : 

Highburgli  Academy,  Feb.  18, 185-. 


AWARDED   TO   OSCAR   PRESTON, 

JFor  JFaftljful  HitfJenbors : 

THE  FOUNDATION  OF  ALL  EXCELLENCE, 

AND  THE  PLEDGE  OF 
FCTUKE    HONOR    AMD    U  SEFUI,  KESS. 


VALUABLE  WORKS  FOR  THE  YOUNG. 


YOUNG  AMERICANS  ABROAD;  or,  Vacation  in  Europe.- 
the  Kesults  of  a  Tour  through  Great  Britain,  France,  Holland,  Belgium, 
Germany,  and  Switzerland.  By  JOHN  OVERTON  CHOULES,  D.  D.,  and 
his  PUPILS.  With  Elegant  Illustrations.  16mo,  cloth,  75  cts. 

A  highly  entertaining  work,  embracing  more  real  information,  such  as  every  one 
wishes  to  know  about  Europe,  than  any  other  book  of  travels  ever  published. 

Three  intelligent  lads,  who  koew  how  to  use  their  eyes,  accompanied  their  tutor 
on  a  European  tour ;  and,  from  a  carefully-kept  journal,  they  wrote  out,  in  a  series  of 
letters  to  a  favorite  companion  in  study,  at  home,  their  impressions  of  the  most  re- 
markable places  enrouU.    The  pencillings  arc  genuine  and  unaffected,  and  in  all 
respects  form  an  interesting  and  instructive  record  of  travel.  —  Sartain's  Magazine. 
One  of  the  most  instructive  and  delightful  books  of  the  age.  —  Southern  Lit.  Gaz. 
Boys,  here  is  a  book  that  will  suit  you  exactly.    It  is  a  scries  of  letters  from  certain 
boys  travelling  in  Europe  to  their  classmates  to  this  country.    It  will  improve  your 
knowledge  and  amuse  you  during  long  winter  cifhts.  —  Methodist,  Prot, 

It  is  worth  much  more  than  many  a  larger  and  rnore  pretentious  volume,  fof  giving 
a  daguerreotype  of  things  abroad.  —  Cong'^gationdlift. 

A  beautiful  book  for  young  people,  unlike  any  tmn^;  we  hive  ever  seen.  —  Ch,  OS- 
Most  interesting  book  that  can  be  put  irto  the  hanCsr'f  tt«  young.  —  Olive  Lrarvh* 
The  best  book  of  foreign  travel  for  youth  to  be  found  in  tas  wholf.  facge  of  Amel-» 
can  literature.  —  Buffalo  Morning  Express. 

THE  ISLAND  HOME;  or,  the  Young  Castaways.  By 
CHRISTOPHER  ROMAUNT,  ESQ.  With  Elegant  IMus-'rations.  75  cts. 

The  best  and  prettiest  book  for  boys  that  we  haYc  lately  stCn —  .Boston  Post, 

A  stirring  and  unique  work.    It  will  interest  thejuccnilc  men  vasvj.  —  Olive  Sr. 

Delightful  narrative  of  the  adventures  of  six  boys  wS  •>  put  to  sea  f*>  *n  open  boat 
and  were  drifted  to  a  desert  island,  where  they  lived  ic  the  manner  of  Robinsou  Cru- 
soe.-A'.  Y.  Com. 

A  book  of  great  interest,  and  one  which  will  be  a  treat  to  any  boy.  —,Hr*f<2  Circle. 

The  young  will  pore  over  its  pages  with  almost  enchanted  interest.—  Trr-n;cript. 

A  modern  Robinson  Crusoe  story,  without  the  dreary  solitude  of  that  lame-is  hero 
It  will  amuse  and  instruct  the  young  in  no  ordinary  degree.  —  Southern  Lit.  (j'tzslte- 

A  story  that  bids  fair  to  rival  the  far-famed  Robinson  Crusoe.  We  bccom"  as  riuch 
Interested  in  the  Jinx,  Johnny,  Arthur,  and  the  rest  of  the  goodly  company,  cs  iC  the 
Swiss  Family  Robinson.  —  Sartain's  Magazine. 

>THE  AMERICAN  STATESMAN ;  or,  Illustrations  of  *,h* 
Life  and  Character  of  DANIEL  WEBSTER,  for  the  Entertainment  and 
Instruction  of  American  Youth.  By  the  REV.  JOSEPH  BAN"ARD,  au- 
thor of  "  Plymouth  and  the  Pilgrims,"  "Novelties  of  the  New  World," 
"  Romance  of  American  History,"  etc.  With  elegant  Illustrations.  75c. 

10-  A  work  of  great  interest,  presenting  a  sketch  of  the  most  striking  and  impor- 
tant events  which  occurred  in  the  history  of  the  distinguished  statesman,  Daniel 
AVi-listor,  avoiding  entirely  all  points  of  a  political  character ;  holding  up  to  view,  for 
the  admiration  and  emulation  of  American  youth,  only  his  commendable  traits  of 
character.  It  is  just  such  a  work  as  every  American  patriot  would  wish  his  childre» 
to  read  and  reflect  upon.  \V 


VALUABLE  WORKS  FOR  THE  YOUNG. 

BY   REV.  HAEVEY    NEWCOME. 


HOW  TO  BE  A  MAN  ;  a'  Book  for  Boys,  containing  Useful 
Hints  on  the  Formation  of  Character.     Cloth,  gilt,  5!)  cts. 

"My  design  in  writing  lias  been  to  contribute  something  towards  forming  the  char- 
acter of  those  who  arc  to  be  our  future  electors,  legislators,  governors,  judges,  minis- 
ters, lawyers,  and  physicians,  —  after  the  best  model.  It  is  intended  for  boys  —  or,  if 
you  please,  for  youny  gentlemen,  m  early  youth."  —  Preface. 

"How  to  boa  Man"  is  an  inimitable  little  volume.  We  desire  that  it  be  widely  cir- 
culated. It  should  be  put  into  the  hands  of  every  youth  in  the  land.  —  Temi.  Hap. 

HOW  TO  BE  A  LADY ;  a  Book  for  Girls,  containing  Useful 
Hints  on  the  Formation  of  Character.     Cloth,  gilt,  50  cts. 

"  Having  daughters  of  his  own,  and  having  been  many  years  employed  in  writing 
for  the  young,  lie  hopes  to  offer  some  good  advice,  in  an  entertaining  way,  for  girls  or 
misses,  between  the  nges  of  eight  and  fifteen.  His  object  is,  to  assist  them  in  forming 
their  character!!  upon  the  best  model;  that  they  may  become  well-bred,  intelligent,  re- 
fined, and  good  ;  and  then  they  will  be  real  ladies,  in  the  highest  sense."  —  Preface. 

Parents  will  consult  the  interests  of  their  daughters,  for  time  and  eternity,  in  mak- 
ing them  acquainted  with  this  attractive  and  most  useful  volume.  —  ^V.  }'.  Kcanyelist. 

The  following  Notices  apply  to  loth  the  alioce  Volumes. 

It  woul'l  be  better  for  the  next  generation  if  every  youth  would  "  read,  learn,  and 
inwardly  digest"  the  contents  of  these  volumes.  —  _V.  }".  Commercial. 

These  volumes  contain  much  matter  which  is  truly  valuable.  —  Mer.  Journal. 

They  contain  wise  and  important  counsels  and  cautions,  adapted  to  the  young,  and 
made  entertaining  by  the  interesting  style  and  illustrations  of  the  author.  They  are 
fine  mirrors,  in  which  are  reflected  the  prominent  lineaments  of  the  Christian  young 
yi:n'Ji:ini,n  and  imuiig  lw.li/.  Elegant  presents  for  the  young.  — American  I'ulj.it. 

Iv'cwcomb's  books  arc  excellent.    We  arc  pleased  to  commend  them.  —  y.  1".  Obs. 

They  arc  books  well  calculated  to  do  good.  —  Phil.  Ch.  Chronicle. 

Common-sense,  practical  hints  on  the  formation  of  character  and  habits,  and  are 
adapted  to  the  improvement  of  youth.  —  Mothers'  Journal. 

ANECDOTES   FOR  BOYS;   Entertaining  Anecdotes  and 
Narratives,  illustrative  of  Principles  and  Character.     18nio,  gilt,  42  cts. 

ANECDOTES  FOR  GIRLS  ;   Entertaining  Anecdotes  and 
Narratives,  illustrative  of  Principles  and  Character.     18mo,  gilt,  42  cts. 

Interesting  and  instructive,  without  being  fictitious.  The  anecdotes  arc  many, 
short,  and  spirited,  with  a  moral  drawn  from  each,  adapted  to  every  age,  condition, 
and  duty  of  life.  We  commend  them  to  families  and  schools.  —  Albftny  Spectator. 

Works  of  great  value,  for  a  truth  or  principle  is  sooner  instilled  into  the  youthful 
heart  by  an  anecdote,  than  in  any  other  way.  They  arc  well  selected.  —  F.v'g  Caz. 

Nothing  has  a  greater  interest  for  a  youthful  mind  than  a  well-told  story,  and  no 
medium  of  conveying  moral  instructions  so  attractive  or  so  successful.  The  influ- 
ence is  far  more  powerful  when  the  child  is  assured  that  they  are  true.  We  cannot 
too  strongly  recommend  them  to  parents.  —  Western  Continent,  Baltimore.  V 


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